


Set the Fire to the Third Bar

by BeatnikFreak



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Drama, F/M, Nightmares, Prince Caspian, Sex, Very AU, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, can you tell i've never tagged on AO3 before?, drunk peter abounds, intimations of blowjobs, nasty wounds, not particularly graphic, snarky ed, so it's a romance, totally au, yep lots of romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 62,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatnikFreak/pseuds/BeatnikFreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They share a passion. Caspian can't hold it in. Neither can Susan. Do fairytales come true - and, more importantly, do they last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to posting this on AO3. Much of this was written about two and a half years ago and posted on the other site that doesn't allow imports to here. It's been a labour of love since a few days before my sixteenth birthday. I'm now eighteen and a half. Er. 
> 
> Yeah, go ahead and leave comments. Please?

"Queen Susan!"

Caspian's voice, tinged with his Telmarine accent, carried down the castle corridor like a bell. Susan turned around, the skirts of her cream dress whipping about her legs with the motion of her spin. The soon to be crowned Prince was striding towards her, blue shirt billowing slightly around his leanly muscled arms.

"Yes, Caspian?"

He bowed his head as he had done what seemed like a thousand times before. "My queen."

Susan repressed a sigh, and stepped towards his tall figure.

"Enough of this 'queen' business. We are friends, and as such, you should call me by my name, not my title." Her tone was very slightly teasing - very unlike the way she normally was with him.

Caspian noticed - of course he did. How could he not, when he noticed everything about her? The colour of her eyes was that of the sky over Cair Paravel. Her skin was the tone of the delicate white flowers she smelled of. The shape of her lips was that of a Cupid's bow.

Caspian was completely smitten, though he had no way to admit it.

"Caspian? Caspian?"

Caspian realised he was probably meant to reply to Susan's request. "If that is what you wish, my La - Susan."

He'd never spoken her name on its own like that before. A rush of something filled him, an emotion he didn't know how to name, let alone explain. An emotion he had never felt before.

Susan was still looking expectantly at him. He started, and remembered his purpose.

"Ah... Glenstorm is looking for you. He says that your bow has been mended and your arrows reflocked." Caspian smiled slightly. "They are waiting for you in your chamber."

Susan smiled: her bow was her pride and joy, and she had worried that it would not be able to be fixed after she had fallen from the rocks at Aslan's How. "Excellent." She looked up at the young Prince. "Thank you for delivering the message, Caspian." Her pale brow suddenly furrowed. "Is Glenstorm all right?"

Caspian was somewhat perplexed by the query. "Yes. Why should he be not?" His dark eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"It's just, Glenstorm normally comes to find me in person when he wishes to speak to me," Susan explained, somewhat lamely.

Caspian reddened a little under his deep, Mediterranean-esque tan. He coughed, his eyes suddenly on the toes of his boots.

Susan noticed his strange behaviour: it only served to inflame her curiosity.

"I offered to deliver the message for him myself, my lady," explained Caspian, his chocolate brown eyes still riveted to his shoes, as if they held the answer to some great mystery.

Susan was so surprised by this that she completely forgot to tell him off for the 'my lady' comment.

"Oh."

There was a loaded pause.

"That was very kind of you," said Susan at last.

"It was my pleasure," replied Caspian, finally looking at her. His accent became more pronounced as he spoke.

His voice... it's beautiful, thought Susan in a vague daze.

She cleared her throat. "You didn't need to do that. After all, you will be King the day after tomorrow."

Caspian's handsome face broke into a smile. "I thought that you did not believe in the rules for the monarchy?" he asked, eyes dancing.

Susan was momentarily dumbstruck. "I - well - that's different."

"It is?" His eyes were filled with an amusement, a light that Susan had not seen in Caspian before. A burden had been lifted from his young shoulders. "I apologise, my queen."

Caspian looked directly at her, daring her to reprimand him. A faint smile played on his lips.

The pair stared at each other for a moment that could have been a year.

It was Susan that broke the silence. "Well, anyway, it makes no sense for a Prince to be running errands that someone else could do."

"But I wanted to run this errand," he replied, his eyes meeting hers.

Susan was silent. Stunned.

Caspian moved forward to take her hand, and pressed his lips to the back of it. "My lady," he murmured, as he moved to walk away. His eyes had not left hers.

Caspian was practicing his archery when they next met.

He pulled his arm back, tensing the string and then letting go, releasing the arrow into the air.

It missed, burying itself into the lawn that lay around the back of the castle that bordered on the forest.

"I prefer my crossbow," he muttered darkly. But Edmund had suggested he try out the centaur-made longbows. And Caspian X never refused a challenge.

Queen Susan is a challenge to my heart, he thought darkly. How am I meant to win that?

"Having problems?" Caspian whirled on the spot.

Susan was standing behind him, a look of amusement quirking her lips.

The lips he had dreamed of last night.

"Uh, no," he replied, covering himself, "I am just not used to a longbow. We Telmarines use crossbows in battle by tradition. But I shall be King of Narnia soon, so I will master this too."

As if to prove his point, he nocked another arrow, drew back his arm, and released the arrow.

At least this time it went near the target.

Susan laughed, then walked over to him. "It's not like firing a crossbow - which you can do very well - " Caspian blushed very faintly at the compliment. "You have to compensate more for the draw than for the recoil."

Caspian nodded. That made perfect sense to him. He drew back his arm again.

A hand on his elbow stopped him. "Raise your arm a little."

Susan's breath was warm on his exposed neck. Caspian tried to focus on what she was saying.

He did as he was told.

"Don't tense your shoulder." Susan's hand moved to the dip of his shoulder. "Relax," she said.

"I would if I could," he murmured.

Susan didn't know what to say, so merely repositioned Caspian's arm. She tried to ignore the muscles she could feel even through his shirt.

Caspian was hyper aware of Susan standing right behind him.

"Now draw back slowly."

Her voice is like bells... FOCUS, Caspian. Focus.

"Keep it straight."

Susan suddenly drew closer to him as she laid her arms along his to guide him.

Caspian stopped breathing.

"Aim a little above the target..." her hands moved his arms.

"And release," she breathed.

The arrow soared towards the target... and hit the bullseye.

"Not bad," Susan chuckled. "I daresay you'll be pretty handy with that."

"Handy?" She sometimes forgot that Caspian wouldn't understand the expressions from her world.

"Good."

"Oh."

Susan hadn't moved yet. Caspian slowly turned his head to look at her. His face was an inch from hers.

A bolt of something akin to lightning flashed between the pair as they looked into each others' eyes.

Then the moment was broken.

"Su! Su!"

Lucy was running towards them, a big smile on her face.

Susan hurriedly pulled back from Caspian. He straightened up slightly, smoothing his shirt unnecessarily, just for something to do.

"Su, Su, look what I found!" Her face was ecstatic as she held out a huge book. "Look who wrote it!"

"Hold still a second, Lu, that way I can read."

"It's Mr TUMNUS!" The excitable young queen jumped up and down on the spot. Caspian went to retrieve his arrows, not wishing to intrude on the sisters' moment.

He also needed to gather his thoughts.

Susan, too, was distracted. She felt that her face was flushed, that her heart was beating arrhythmically.

"Su?"

Susan started. "Sorry, Lu, I missed that. Say it again?"

Lucy eyed her shrewdly. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how wise the youngest Pevensie really was. "I said, look at this bit." She held up the book. It was open to a beautiful painting... of Lucy.

"He drew it!"

"Aw, it's such a good likeness."

Tumnus must have really loved her, Susan mused.

Caspian had returned by then, arrows in hand.

"Queen Lucy," he said, bowing.

"Oh, shut up, Caspian." Lucy dropped the book into Susan's hands and ran over to the young man, arms outstretched.

Slightly taken aback, but not surprised, Caspian caught the short girl and swung her around. "I apologize profusely." That same smile was on his lips again.

Susan watched how natural the pair were with each other. Lucy had taken to Caspian instantly... and who could fail to love Lucy?

Caspian put her down gently, but Lucy grabbed his hand as she skipped back to her older sister. "What were you two doing?"

"Er..." Susan's cheeks were warming, as were Caspian's.

"Your sister was helping me with my longbow technique," demurred Caspian in that exotic accent of his. "I believe it to be much improved."

Lucy looked at them both. "Riiight."

"I must take my leave of you," said Caspian, slinging his bow and quiver over one shoulder. "Queen Lucy... Susan." He bowed to them... but his eyes remained on the Gentle Queen the whole time.

It was the evening. Dinner had been fraught. Absolutely fraught.

Caspian had found it incredibly difficult to keep his eyes off Susan. She had been wearing a green dress that exposed a semicircle of her creamy skin, and he had become increasingly distracted throughout the torture of the meal. Edmund had had to poke him at one point to get his attention. He'd ended up excusing himself with a headache.

Headache? Heartache.

He stopped pacing his room.

Was that what it was?

Did he love Susan, Susan Pevensie, Queen Susan the Gentle, the fairytale who had come true? The intelligent, kind, wise, beautiful Susan who was all a queen should be? And everything a woman should be too?

Did he heck.

Susan had not enojoyed dinner either. Her eyes had landed on Caspian far too often.

His face. His hands. His hair. His eyes, that narrowed when he spoke, then widened when he laughed. He hadn't laughed at all tonight, though. He had seemed distracted and out of sorts. And then he had left early, claiming a headache.

So now Susan was confused, frustrated, and on top of all that, worried.

But why am I worried?

The answer came quickly and easily.

Susan Pevensie. You love him.

Caspian was feeling very restless, and the wound on his back was aching. He tugged his shirt over his head, feeling the twinge as the healing skin stretched.

All he really wanted to do was sleep.

Well, that wasn't exactly true.

What he really wanted was... Susan.

Susan decided to do something that she would never have done before.

After wishing her siblings goodnight, she made as if towards her room... then passed her door and went to Caspian's.

Sleep, however, did not look likely to come any time soon, so Caspian tried to think of something to relax his tangled thoughts.

He dropped the shirt that was still in his hands unceremoniously on the floor, then walked out onto his balcony. He started to watch the stars, leaning on the balustrade. He'd loved to do this ever since he was a little boy.

A little boy who knew nothing of what was in store for him.

Caspian sighed deeply, leaning against the marble. He would be king of all Narnia in under two days, and he had no idea if he was ready, despite Aslan's words.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Come in, it is not locked!" he called, feeling the weariness in his voice.

Susan pushed open Caspian's door, and walked in.

"Caspian?"

He was nowhere to be seen. His leather waistcoat was draped over a chair, and his boots had been kicked into a corner beside an elaborate wardrobe.

Susan smiled a little at that.

"Caspian?"

"I am on the balcony," his voice replied, his accent pulling up his words. He sounded ... tired.

Susan walked out onto the balcony.

"Oh!"

The prince was leaning on the balustrade that was so similar to the ones that had been at Cair Paravel, mahogany hair blowing in the wind that disturbed the warm night air. He still had his tight black trousers on - but he was shirtless. And gloriously so.

His coffee-hued skin had a subtle glow in the moonlight, and she could see every one of the muscles in his nevertheless slim frame.

Caspian turned around, then coloured again. "Queen Susan, I did not realise it was you. I apologise."

Susan was already backtracking, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude -"

"Don't go."

His voice held a note of something that Susan - nor Caspian himelf - had ever heard in it before. It was... longing.

Susan stopped.

"Why is it you were, as you say, intruding?" asked Caspian, once again looking amused.

She blushed. "I was checking you were all right - you seemed not yourself at dinner."

"Your concern is appreciated," he smiled.

"I was just coming to see if you were okay, I didn't expect to find you in such a... relaxed state of dress," she gabbled.

He reddened again, yet still remained perfectly formal. "If my lady prefers, I can put on a shirt? I do not wish to cause upset or offence."

Susan shook her head. "It's fine." Caspian smiled wider for a minute. "I mean, that cut probably needs air, right?"

Caspian nodded, still smiling at her hurried covering.

"Does it hurt badly?"

"A little." Susan could tell he was lying, so he wouldn't cause a fuss.

"I should probably g-"

"Don't go - " Caspian bit it back, the plea in his voice. He straightened up. "I mean... her majesty is welcome to stay if she wishes."

Susan stepped one foot closer. "Why do you insist on these formalities, Caspian?"

A thrill went through him as she spoke his name - just like it did every time.

"I do not wish to be improper."

"Well, I do not see it as that," retorted Susan.

"My lady, I only wish to be polite," Caspian explained hurriedly. "I do not ever wish to offend you."

"You couldn't," she murmured, then made as if to leave.

But he caught her wrist gently in his long fingered hand. "Please do not go..." He looked right at her. "Susan."

Susan's heart skipped a beat. "Caspian, I - "

His voice was barely above a whisper. "I know." The Telmarine accent in his voice made it sound like a spell, some arcane words of love.

And then he closed the distance between them even as she stepped up to his body. His arms wrapped around her waist, and hers locked around his neck.

Caspian kissed her, chastely at first, holding her tight to him. And then his tongue flicked against Susan's lip.

Her mouth instantly fell open. Their tongues met even as their lips did, touching tentatively then tasting, embracing like their bodies.

As their kiss turned more passionate, Caspian pushed Susan up against the wall, his arms tightening as if he would never let her go. Susan's hands traced greedily all over his chest and back, drinking him in. Her legs, seemingly of their own accord, wrapped around his trim waist. Caspian responded by kissing her harder, one arm moving to her exposed shoulder blades.

Susan could hear Caspian's quick breathing, even as she heard her own pants. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest, which was pressed so tightly to hers that he could feel every curve of her.

I have been blessed, thought Caspian as his heart raced.

I have been blessed.


	2. Undisclosed Desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retroactively posting this here. Comments welcome.

Caspian's lips moved down to just above the artery on the side of Susan's pale neck. She clutched him closer, hands fisting into his hair. She was hyper-aware of the hand that was tight on her waist, and the palm pressed against her bare upper back.

He murmured something that Susan didn't catch, before she pulled his lips back to hers with a tug on his mahogany locks.

This is most certainly improper, thought Caspian, but somehow he couldn't quite make himself care.

If someone was to look up at the royal balcony, they would have had quite a shock. They would have seen a topless, barefoot Prince kissing one of the Queens of old like there was no tomorrow. They would have seen how Caspian had Susan pressed right up against the wall and his body. They would have seen that the Gentle Queen's legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her hands clenched tightly in his hair.

If someone was to listen, they would also have had a shock. The two young royals were breathing very loudly, air coming in gasps and sighs. Vague moans spilled from Susan's lips. Caspian had a low growl deep in his throat. It would be very easy to get the ... wrong idea about what they were doing.

But what an observer would be most struck by was not something directly visible or audible.

They would be struck by the charge in the air, a tangible zing. What Susan would have likened to electricity, and Caspian to magic.

The young prince suddenly pulled back, his eyes darker than Susan had ever seen them. They were burning.

"Susan... I will not be able to stop if I continue to kiss you." His breathing was ragged, his chest moving up and down rapidly.

"Stop-?"

"I do not wish to take you up against the wall as some common harlot," Caspian said, his voice still hitching in odd places. "You are more than that." He brushed his lips across her shoulder. "You MEAN more than that," he murmured, his deep eyes intent on her face.

Susan saw the importance of what he was saying. Caspian was trying to tell her that she meant something to him, that he wished to do things the right way.

That he respected her. That he cared.

She nodded, unable to speak. Caspian gently lifted her away from the wall with two hands on her waist as she unwound her legs, and set her down on her feet. He looked into her blue eyes, blue as the sea in the distance, and then wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"My beautiful queen," he breathed into her shoulder.

They might have stood there for an eternity or a millisecond, arms holding each other close. An observer might remark that they had the air of survivors from some disaster: they looked like they never wanted to let each other go, for fear of losing the other.

Caspian finally let her go, regretfully. Susan looked right up at him, unspoken emotions in her expression.

"I will walk you to your chambers," he offered, reverting to his formality.

The castle was dark. The only light came from a few still-burning candles in the wall sconces, and the moonlight that was streaming in through the high windows. Susan did not always like the dark - but with Caspian by her side, she was not uneasy.

He makes me feel safe, Susan realised.

Outside her door, they stopped. The pair faced each other.

"When will I see you tomorrow?" she asked, feeling less like a Queen, and more like who she was: a seventeen year old girl.

"Whenever you wish to see me." He gently caught her chin in his fingers. "I will be waiting for you always."

And then he released her face, only to pick up her hand and press his lips to it. "Goodnight, my Queen. My Susan."

And he walked away into the dim light.

~#~

Susan did not sleep well that night.

She had tossed and turned, unable to drift off. She had opened all the windows, feeling feverish, then been forced to pile on her blankets to keep the chill away. She had tried lying on her back, her side, her front, even curled into a ball, but all to no avail.

And when she did, at last, fall into a fitful slumber, her dreams had been filled with Caspian. Caspian, Caspian, Caspian. His name reverberated around her skull, etched itself on her heart.

When she woke, she traced her lips. She swore she could still feel the burn of his kiss.

Caspian also had had a difficult night.

He had dreamed of Susan from the moment his head touched the pillows... dreams that would have got him into extreme trouble with High King Peter if he knew about them.

And the worst of it was that he kept waking up... as they got... interesting. So he had had a disturbed, frustrating night's sleep.

"Dios mios," he cursed, throwing his pillow across the room at around five am. He could not go on like this.

Caspian kicked his legs out of his rumpled sheets, leaping to his feet. The wound twinged again as he stretched his arms over his head. He winced, then went to find some clothes for the day. There was no way he would be getting any more sleep now.

After having bathed - in freezing cold water, seeing as he couldn't call for hot, considering the earliness of the hour - he pulled on a pair of brown, slim fitting trousers, a white shirt with billowing sleeves and a khaki jerkin. He tugged on his long boots, and placed his sword on his belt. It was still difficult for him not to be armed at all times.

One of the many things Miraz has done to my mind, Caspian thought darkly.

He did not like to admit it, but Miraz's treatment of him had scarred him deeper than most realised. He was still in mourning for his father, in his heart if not his head. And he had issues... with worthiness. And with trust.

I trust Susan. That is what matters.

Did Susan trust him in return? He certainly hoped so. She must - if she did not, she would not have let him... Caspian searched for the right words. Take liberties. That was it. He had taken liberties, with one of the Queens of Old, no less!

Yet again, his thoughts were spiralling into unravellable tangles. He needed to clear his head.

Susan lay in bed, knowing that Caspian's chambers were only a few steps from hers. She wanted him. She knew it. She knew it in every cell of her body.

Every cell of her body that had screamed for Caspian last night as he was kissing her.

Susan blushed slightly as she remembered. She had behaved quite unlike herself last night. She held her hands out in front of her face, recalling the feel of Caspian's silky brown hair between her fingers. She had run her hands through it so ... passionately, that they had been very faintly scented of sandalwood and him, like the woods and musk and something else that she didn't know how to name.

It was Caspian's scent.

She swung her legs out of bed, knowing that no more sleep would come to her now. As she stood up, she felt a very slight ache at the top of each leg.

"Huh - "

Oh.

The tops of her thighs hurt from when she had kissed Caspian.

When she had wrapped her legs around him.

Susan's involuntary blush deepened as she just thought about it. She had had him between her legs as he had pinned her up against the stone wall with his body. His long, lean, muscled body.

She slapped her face. "Susan Pevensie! Get a grip on yourself."

She walked to her bathroom.

"Oh, Christ," she breathed, as she looked in the mirror.

Her face was more flushed than usual, and her hair was a mess. Her eyes looked too bright, glowing too much in her face. Her lips were slightly swollen. But that wasn't what she was looking at.

There was a round, red mark on her neck.

"Fuck."

~#~

"Caspian?"

He looked up at the sound of his name. Edmund was walking towards him. "I say, you're up early!"

Caspian smiled. Edmund did not need to know that he'd been walking in the grounds for the past two and a half hours. "I could say the same to you."

The Just King grinned, hefting the pair of swords in his arms. "No time like the present, Caspian. Just off to do a bit of training."

Caspian laughed. "You are already the best swordsman in the land, Edmund. Who are you trying to defeat now? The giants?"

The smile on Edmund's face broadened. "Some hope. See you later, mate." He clapped Caspian on the shoulder as he passed him on route to the door that led onto the training ground.

Caspian laughed once to himself.

King Edmund the Just? King Edmund the Indefatigable suits him more.

Still chuckling quietly, Caspian made his way towards the dining hall. The youngest Pevensie was a notoriously early riser, so he would eat with Lucy.

She was there already, an apple in her hand. "Hallo, Caspian!"

Caspian reached past her to pick up an apple too. "Hello, Lucy. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thankyou," she beamed. Caspian found her absolutely adorable. He'd have loved a little sister, especially one like Lucy Pevensie. Hell, he'd have loved any sort of sibling.

But not Susan. I want Susan in my life in a different way.

A very different way.

"So what's the plan today?" chirped Lucy.

Caspian leant back, apple in hand. "I believe there are some documents to be signed... and in the evening it is the celebration."

"The celebration?" asked a voice from behind Caspian.

"Oh, hey, Su," greeted Lucy.

Caspian stood up hurriedly - and knocked his goblet over, sending two forks clattering to the floor and splashing water all over the elaborate tablecloth.

"Morning, Caspian," yawned Peter, following his sister. "Nice one there." He eyed the devastation around the young Prince, who blushed under his tan.

"Good morning, Peter. Good morning, Susan."

Did she hear it? The caress in his voice when he spoke her name, pronounced even more by his accent?

She must,

Musn't she?

Susan was struggling to maintain her composure. All she could think about was last night.

"What celebration?" she persisted, as Caspian ducked down to retrieve everything he'd knocked to the floor.

"The celebration of your return," he explained, as if it were obvious. "I owe you a debt of gratitude: without your return, I would probably be dead, and all Narnia would be under Miraz's control. It is right that the saviours of Narnia be honoured."

His eyes briefly met Susan's.

The rest of breakfast was tense. Or, at least, it was between Susan and Caspian.

Caspian had to keep his eyes down to stop them from focussing on her. Susan was hurt: she thought that he did not wish to talk to her.

Susan, meanwhile, in an attempt to prevent revealing her feelings, was short and brusque. Caspian did not understand it.

Afterwards, Peter went "off to find Ed!" and Lucy skipped off to the library. Susan walked quickly out of the door after her brother.

As she passed a dark corner, a hand closed around her wrist and pulled her in. She barely muffled a scream as she was drawn up against a hard body.

"Oh. It's you."

Caspian's handsome face was hurt looking, his eyes fierce. "Have I offended you in some way, my lady?"

"No," she replied.

"Then why is it that you are short with me?"

"It isn't my fault you didn't want to talk to me," retorted Susan.

Caspian's brow furrowed. "I am sorry?"

"You wouldn't meet my eyes for all of breakfast!" hissed Susan.

"And you would not speak more than two words to me!" exclaimed Caspian.

"I was worried the others would realise! Doesn't matter now, though, does it?" Susan attempted to turn away. "You aren't interested."

But Caspian would not let her go. Instead, he brought her to within an inch of his face. "You truly believe that I am not 'interested' in you, as you say?" His eyes locked on hers. "I merely was trying to keep from staring at you, my lady. Because you are so beautiful."

Susan was speechless.

"If I had not, I would have not been able to control myself. I would have ended up kissing you then and there."

He brushed his lips past her jaw. "I am interested in you. You are my only care."

Susan only had one thing she could do. She let him pull her into his strong arms and pressed her lips to his.

It was different this time. This time, they were slower. Exploratory. Susan bit down lightly on Caspian's lower lip, making him shudder and tighten his hands on her waist. Her hands curled into his shirt.

"My Susan," he breathed, resting his forehead on hers. "Never think I do not care."

~#~

"Caspian? Caspian? Helloooo?"

He started at Lucy's voice. "I apologise, my lady."

"Reepicheep says he has sent the missives for you."

He sighed in relief. "I am glad. I may now get an hour to myself."

A small smile curved his lips. It had been a day of stolen moments.

Susan had caught him in the stables after eleven o' clock. He had had her pinned against Destrier's stall in seconds, lips glued together.

He had pulled her aside as the Pevensies roamed the ornamental gardens, and kissed her in the shelter of a hedge. Leaves were still stuck in his hair, though he didn't know that bit.

They had stolen away after lunch to behind a shelf in the library. There were several tapestries in there that had probably been traumatised.

Lucy eyed him oddly. "Everything all right, Caspian?"

He smiled broadly. "Everything is perfect, my young Queen."

~#~

"Caspian!"

He whipped around.

"In the alcove!"

He looked left, and right, before sidling into the small alcove with its window seat.

"My lady?"

He turned from side to side, looking for her. "Susan?"

At once her arms were around him from behind, pulling him to her. She turned him to face her, taking advantage of his surprise to manipulate him.

"My lady..." he murmured into her shoulder. "I have missed you."

"I've missed you too, Caspian."

Without further ado, she pushed him back against the wall, kissing him softly.

He responded eagerly, braiding the fingers of one hand into her curls, and placing the other securely at her waist.

Her tongue flicked at his.

Caspian moaned against her lips, trying to bring her closer against him.

Susan took the iniative and moved them along to the high ledge of the window seat. With Caspian disarmed as he was, it was easy to push him down into a sitting position.

Caspian's face was now on a level with hers. He wrapped both arms around her, drawing her against his chest, so that she was standing between his legs. Susan held his face in her hands, kissing him softly but with a fire that burned behind the flowers of her sweet kiss.

Caspian's hands moved up her back, stroking gently. His legs tightened either side of hers, holding her in place.

Susan brushed her lips across his face, then down to under his chin, brushing his bangs away. Her lips travelled down to a spot just below his ear, where she stopped, sucking at the skin.

Caspian groaned, hands fisting against her back. "Susan..."

She pulled back, a smile on her face.

Caspian touched the mark on his neck. Susan's eyes were alight.

"Now I have claimed you."


	3. Stop and Stare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retroactively posting this one. Comments welcome. Can you tell I was a soppy lovelorn sap in Year Eleven?

"Caspian," Susan breathed into his neck, the warm air fluttering his silky hair.

He'd caught her around the corner from the library, as had not been able to resist pulling her into his arms. His lips were beginning to chap from all the kissing he'd done that day. His hair was tousled, his shirt collar rumpled, and his eyes were possessed with a curious light.

Susan, meanwhile, was flushed with her hair slipping from its pins. Her dress was slightly disarrayed.

Caspian thought she looked more beautiful than ever.

"Come here," she whispered, pulling his face to hers, his arms still wrapped around her.

Their lips gently met, Caspian tilting his head towards Susan's. He shifted his hands to hold her waist, pressing her against him. She crossed her arms over his back, letting him hold her up.

A sigh spilled from their joined lips. Who knew whom it came from?

It was one of those kisses where one loses oneself entirely. Where the world ceases to exist.

The world had ceased to exist for Susan and Caspian a long time ago.

Footsteps began to echo down the corridor. Caspian pulled back.

"I should go," Susan said, her eyes fixed on Caspian's. "Lucy is expecting me to help her dress."

He nodded. "Reepicheep will doubtless be looking for me."

She was about to step away when he suddenly pulled her to him, his lips burning against hers for an all-too-brief moment.

"I will see you tonight," he breathed, eyes never leaving hers, before he turned and strode quickly away.

~#~

"Your majesty?" asked a voice. Caspian turned around. "Yes?"

The small page held out a bound roll of parchment. "From Doctor Cornelius, sire."

Caspian took it. "Thank you, -" He raised his eyebrows.

The boy grinned at his prince's obvious question. "Niall, your majesty."

"Thank you, Niall." The little page beamed.

He dismissed the boy with a friendly pat on the shoulder, and made for his chambers with the scroll. Why was Cornelius sending him messages in this way? Normally he would just come to find him.

He went across to the chair by his table, and broke the seal.

"That is not Cornelius' seal," he mused aloud.

He unfurled the parchment - and instantly knew who it was from scent alone. The sweetest white flowers.

My dear Caspian,

Wait for me under the grand staircase at eight. I will meet you there.

Until then,

Your Susan

A smile stretched across Caspian's tanned face.

My Susan.

~#~

"Where were YOU all day?" asked Lucy as a maid ran a bath in the next room.

"What on earth do you mean, Lu? I spent most of it with you."

"You kept disappearing."

"Really?" Susan looked out of the window.

"Yeah, you did. After we went for a walk, you just - POOF!"

Susan's ears went pink. She had a slight graze on the back of her neck from the wood of Destrier's stall.

"And then when we were in the gardens, you were right beside me, then you weren't."

Susan looked down at the small rip in the skirt of her dress. They hadn't been mindful of the thorns surrounding them.

"And where did you vanish off to after lunch?"

"I was in the library." Its true. I was.

I just wasn't doing any reading.

"What about earlier? I came to find you and you had gone, you were nowhere to be found."

"I... went for a walk."

Lucy looked at her curiously. "Why have you got that odd look on your face?"

Susan decided evasion was better than misdirection. "What odd look?"

"That odd look -"

To Susan's relief, the bath was then ready and Lucy departed for a moment.

What odd look? Do you mean the look of a Narnian Queen, originally from Finchley, who has been kissing the face off a noble Telmarine Prince, whose coronation is tomorrow, in every moment possible, in dark corners?

Susan looked in the glass that stood across from her chambers' wardrobe.

Would it be that look?

Her eyes were still unnaturally bright. Her lips were redder than normal, and almost swelled-looking. Two spots of pink hovered over her cheekbones.

And she had the look of a blind man whose sight had just been restored.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Susan got up to answer it, what with the maid having left, and Lucy being in the bath next door.

She had barely opened the door wide enough to allow her out when a pair of hands caught her waist and pulled her close to a hard body. She didn't even have time to gasp.

Caspian kissed her as they stood in the gap between the half open door. Maybe it was symbolic, but it was like they were bridging the gap between two worlds, half hidden to the one they had crossed into, only made visible by the other. And they could still be seen in their own worlds.

Maybe we only make each other real. Alone, we are nothing, thought Caspian.

Susan's hand fisted into Caspian's hair, and her other curled at the small of his back, her fingers slipping under his jerkin so the only thing separating her hand from his back was a thin shirt. The tips of her digits dug slightly into his skin, making him tighten his hold on her waist.

It was over too quickly. Susan pulled back, for fear that they would be discovered. Caspian wound her into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder.

"You musn't be seen," Susan breathed into his hair.

"I will not be, my Queen." He relinquished her, holding onto only her hand.

He walked slightly away from the door, holding her hand still in his. "Until tonight, my lady." He pressed his lips to her palm, still walking backwards.

And he let go of her outsretched hand, walking down the corridor away from her.

~#~

"Your majesty, the guests are assembled."

Caspian, garbed in a deep red tunic with braiding, black trousers that clung to his long and lean legs, and his (blatantly) favourite boots, looked down at the mouse by his side, with his rapier at his belt as usual.

"Thank you, Reepicheep."

He looked up at the grand staircase. It must be close to eight now.

He did not care about his entrance to the celebration. It was not for him, he was merely there as... as what?

But he never got to answer his own question.

"Caramba," he breathed.

Queen Susan the Gentle, dressed in shimmering blue, was walking slowly down the stairs towards him, a smile of pure beauty and joy on her face. Her dress had a tight bodice with short sleeves that left all of her shoulders bare, before flaring out into an A line skirt.

Of course, Caspian did not know what kind of skirt it was. All he knew was that she was beautiful.

How can someone so perfect have been meant for me? he wondered as he stared up at her, frozen to the spot.

Susan looked down at Caspian as she came towards him. His features displayed a mixture of emotions, before they all shifted into one: total, and unswerving, devotion.

"My Queen," he greeted her formally, bending his head over her hand.

"Caspian," she replied, her eyes locking with his as he straightened up.

"Su! You could have at least told us you were coming down now!" exclaimed a rather irate Peter, as he hurried down the stairs. "We look a right pair of prats now."

"Speak for yourself, mate," replied the ever chilled Edmund.

Lucy skipped to Reepicheep's side, hand in hand with Trumpkin, who actually scrubbed up rather well.

Caspian offered his arm to Susan. "May I?"

She took it. "You may."

Their eyes never left one another's.

The two Pevensie boys suddenly noticed a slight issue with the pairings for their entrance.

"Wait, who are we supposed to - ?" started Peter, as the Gentle Queen and the Noble Telmarine began to walk towards the hall.

"If you think I'm walking in on his arm, you've got another thing coming!" exclaimed Edmund, for once less than calm.

But Susan and Caspian did not notice. They were too busy looking deep into one another's eyes.

"My Susan," he breathed, before the doors were swung open to a soaring fanfare. The cheer that went up damn near raised the vaulted roof.

The Kings and Queens of Narnia (plus Trumpkin and Reepicheep, who was bringing up the rear of the royal procession) walked into the hall. Nobles would remark for days afterward how perfect Prince Caspian and Queen Susan looked together, leading their entrance. Lucy was hand in hand with her DLF, a bright smile on her face. Peter and Edmund werre at the back, walking an awkward metre away from each other, with slightly fixed smiles on their faces.

Once they had reached halfway down the aisle between the guests, Caspian stopped.

"People of Narnia and Telmar!" he declaimed, his voice carrying throughout the massive hall. He really did have presence, despite his youth. "We have been saved in recent days. Without the four siblings standing by my side, we would not be here today. We could not have defeated Miraz and reunited the lands if it were not the return of our Kings and Queens of Old. We owe them a debt of gratitude, and tonight, we pay tribute to them: High King Peter the Magnificent!"

I bet Pete is dying to strike a 'warrior' pose, thought Susan wryly.

"Queen Lucy the Valiant!"

Lucy, still holding the hand of her DLF, beamed brightly.

"King Edmund the Just!"

Typically stoic, Ed just smiled calmly.

"And Queen Susan the Gentle!" Caspian finished, his eyes meeting Susan's.

A round of applause went up, accompanied by cheers and shouts.

"Let it begin," cried Caspian.

The orchestra began to play. Edmund and Peter looked, horror-stricken, at one another.

But the two at the front paid them no heed. They looked at one another.

"Queen Susan of Narnia, will you allow me this dance?" asked Caspian in that rich accent of his, bowing his head.

"Prince Caspian of Telmar, it would be my pleasure."

~#~

"I wish I could hold you forever like this," whispered Caspian into Susan's ear. It was their second dance, as they had both been claimed by varying people after their first dance - which was all for show anyway. Caspian had found it nigh on impossible not to pull her into him and kiss her.

But that really would have been improper.

"I wish I could stay here forever in your arms," she whispered back as he spun her around.

~#~

"Peter, wine?" Susan offered her brother a goblet.

Reepicheep eyed her. It was well known how High King Peter... got high. "Is that wise, your majesty?"

But Peter had already taken a swig. "Cracking. Thanks, Su."

~#~

Edmund was watching his sister very carefully from his spot near the orchestra.

It was obvious that Caspian fancied her, had been from the word go. And Susan had been slipping further and further under his spell with every day.

That sounds harsher than it is. No... she loves him.

Okay, he felt a surge in his blood, his protective intinct making itself known.

The Just King, however, did not do what his brother would have done.

He let them be, spinning about the dancefloor in each other's arms, eyes rapt on one another. The mutual adoration was clear as the moon outside.

Everyone's free to feel good, the more sensitive Pevensie boy thought, then sighed.

Good luck to you, guys. You may need it.

~#~

She was just picking up a goblet when she felt his breath on her neck. All the hairs stood on end.

"I am dangerously close to kissing you," he murmured as he passed, placing a glass in her hands. One finger trailed lightly along her forearm.

She could still feel where he had touched her five minutes later.

~#~

Lucy was the one that caught it happening.

Caspian and Susan were at the edge of the hall, just finishing a dance.

He bowed to her as was his way - and then, so quickly that Lucy was barely sure she actually saw it happening, Caspian held Susan's face in his hands and kissed her.

Reepicheep was beside her. "Isn't it sweet, Reep?"

"Indeed, my young queen, they are well-suited."

"Told you so," Lucy said under her breath, a pleased smile on her lips.

~#~

"Querida," he whispered into her ear, brushing his fingers across her cheek.

Susan reached her face up to press her lips to his. He kissed her back in equal measure, his hand rubbing her back in long, lazy circles.

They were dancing again, but this time it was not the courtly dances.

They had sneaked out onto the terrace at the back of the hall, Caspian grabbing her hand, a finger over his lips, which were curved into a wicked grin.

"You don't care for functions like these, do you?" Susan asked, her head resting on his chest as they slowly stepped back and forth to the music issuing from the hall, arms wound around one another.

"They remind me of Miraz," Caspian said.

"Oh, Caspian." She reached up to hold his cheek.

"Or... they did. I think now, I will be able to enjoy them. Because they will remind me of tonight. And how fortunate I have been in finding you."

~#~

They were still out on the terrace: the party - for that was what it was, it was a hugely lavish party, but a party nonetheless - was in full swing. So much alcohol had already been imbibed that no one was really going to miss either of them.

"Susan... there is something I want to say."

She picked her head up off his chest to look up at him.

"I... I am in love with you, Queen Susan. I have been since I first saw you. And I love you more every single day." His eyes were burning with feeling.

Tears blurred her vision as she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Caspian," she exclaimed.

"I take it that you approve of my affections?" he asked, in a somewhat muffled voice.

"Yes, yes!" Susan pulled back from him, looking deep into his face. "And I love you too, Caspian, my Noble Telmarine."

Caspian's heart felt like it might burst. He could not say a word, so instead he picked her up and swung her around, burying his face in her hair until he choked out, through a sudden lump in his throat:

"I love you, Susan Pevensie. You are my world."


	4. Cosmic Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I wrote a sex scene. Retroactively posting this here. Comments welcome.

He loves me. He loves me.

Susan's thoughts were practically incomprehensible. All she could focus on was the face of the man she loved, as he spun her through the air in delight.

Caspian's mind was in a similar disarray. He could barely string two mental words together.

The Gentle Queen laughed like a peal of bells. "Put me down, Caspian! I'm getting dizzy!"

He grinned wickedly. "But I never wish to let you go."

He rested his forehead on hers. She could feel the heat of his skin. "My queen," he whispered.

Susan reached down to kiss him. "My prince."

~#~

Inside the hall, someone had noticed the absence of the two young royals.

"Where'sss Suusn?" slurred Peter, halfway through his fourth glass of wine.

What Susan hadn't told him was that it was faun-made wine. Hence, it was about twice the strength of wine back in England, or even the relatively weak dwarven wine he had drunk back in the Golden Age.

Classy, bro, really classy, thought Edmund as he sipped from his second goblet of dwarf wine. The Just King knew how to pace himself.

"Edd?" Peter looked at him.

"I dunno." Edmund kicked himself. He should have lied.

"And whaddabout Spanish-Boy?"

Edmund looked at him sardonically over the rim of his goblet. "You mean Caspian, soon to be King of all Narnia and Telmar?"

Edmund sometimes wondered why Peter was not renowned as a diplomat. He had certainly dealt with all number of people and creatures in his time as King of Narnia.

"Yeah, 'im."

And then, sometimes, he didn't.

Edmund was smarter this time. "I think he went to confer with the guards. He likes to be on top of things, does Caspian."

He suddenly shuddered inside at what he'd said.

Christ, wrong thing to say! Ugh, don't want to think about that bit, don't want to think about it, don't want to think about it!

As much as Edmund wanted his sister to be happy - and that included her having Caspian if she wanted him as hers - he really could have done without the image in his head.

Ick.

Sensing that his brother was likely to mount a search mission unless he was distracted - and fast - Edmund seized the iniative.

"Pete... more wine?"

~#~

"Mi amor," breathed Caspian into Susan's hair, his breathing very fast. His heart was beating as if he'd just run from Cair Paravel to the Lamp Post Waste. "Ser el mio."

"What?" Susan was still held in Caspian's arms. Aslan knew how he could be so strong.

"It's Telmarine, my Queen."

"For?"

Caspian fixed his eyes on Susan's.

"My love... be mine."

Susan reached out to hold his dusky cheek. Her fingers curled around the line of his jaw.

"I am yours."

Caspian smiled, his happiness lighting up his entire face. He set Susan down on the floor - and she staggered, before he caught her.

"Susan, are you all right?"

Susan glared up at him. "I said you were making me dizzy!"

~#~

"Ed! Ed!"

"What, Lu?"

"Su's vanished!"

"She probably just went for a walk," he tried, eyes trawling the filled room for his sister's blue dress and Caspian's red tunic.

They might not have them on any more...

Edmund blanched. There were things a brother should never have to imagine... and that was right up there with the worst of them.

Lucy put her hands on her hips. "Don't you get it? She's gone! Again!"

"Lu, stop getting over- " He stopped.

"Wait. What do you mean, again?"

"Su kept disappearing all day, to Aslan-knows-where," Lucy pouted.

Edmund frowned. Then his brain started to tick as he worked it out.

"The last time I saw her, she was with Caspian - he KISSED her, Ed!"

And that was when it became clear.

Susan had been disappearing off... with Caspian. To do Aslan-knew-what.

His first reaction was horror. Not because he didn't like Caspian, or because he disapproved of their realtionship but - well, come on! How was he supposed to react? The fact was that his sister and Caspian had been sneaking off... and he really didn't want to think what they could have been doing.

And his second reaction, once the 'oh my god' moment had passed, was amusement. How typically Susan, to be meeting her lover in secret and yet still appear completely normal.

Okay, not using the 'lover' word again.

And now he came to think of it, Susan hadn't been acting normally. She'd seemed... different. Not bad different, not weird different -but different.

His sister, it seemed, was being changed by her love for Caspian.

And third, he felt a little sad. They had to sneak around everywhere, for fear of being discovered. For fear that they would be criticized. They had to snatch the moments where they could, for fear that they would be split up.

Oh, Su.

~#~

Susan and Caspian were dancing again. From inside carried the litlting melody of a Narnian folk-song.

Caspian held her by the hand, and spun her around. They were dancing as if they were not the Queen and soon-to-be-crowned King of Narnia. They were dancing like who they really were - two teenagers in love.

Susan was attempting to teach Caspian to dance. He wasn't particularly good at it - he could do the courtly ones very well, but he did everything less formal with a distinct lack of rhythm.

"No, left foot - "

"Right arm -"

Susan rolled her eyes. "For a prince, you're awfully bad at this."

Caspian used a flick of his arm to pull her into his chest. "Oh really? It is not my fault that I was educated in the waltz, not the hive."

"Jive, Caspian. It's called the jive."

"I do not care what it is called. I merely wish to dance with you."

"Oh, not like tha-" Susan shook her head in exasperation. "You really have no idea how to dance."

"On the contrary. I have every idea." His eyes glinted, then he spun Susan around again, before dipping her backwards.

Susan bit back her retort. He did have a point. It wasn't the jive... but it was lovely nevertheless.

They moved about, just dancing to the upbeat music. Their hands were joined, as they moved together and apart, Caspian occasionally spinning Susan around by one hand. Wide smiles painted their faces as they laughed.

Suddenly Susan was in Caspian's arms, pressed tight against him. She looked up at his face.

I have never felt so... free, thought Caspian dazedly.

"Oh... Caspian," sighed Susan almost involuntarily.

Their lips met, followed by their tongues. Caspian's hands were firm on her waist as he strained her closer to him.

Susan's hands braced themselves at the small of his back and on his chest. Then, slowly, her left hand went under the braided hem of his tunic and slipped up between the material and the skin of his back.

Caspian froze.

"Is that all right?" Susan whispered against her lips.

"Do not stop," he breathed, then pressed his mouth back to hers.

Susan's hand worked its way further up his muscular back, her fingers curling. Caspian shuddered lightly, his lips moving faster and harder - but always gentle.

~#~

King Peter was having the time of his life.

"Music, girlss and boozze," he chuntered to himself happily as he leant back in his seat, one leg over the elaborately carved arm. "Life ish shweet."

The urge to go for a stroll possessed him. He stood up, swaying.

"I'm the King of the WORLD," he giggled drunkenly.

~#~

Caspian's hand was on the laces at the back of her dress. He was not sure if he should do this.

But by Aslan, he wanted to.

He moved his hand up to the top of her dress, just below her shoulderblades. He trailed his fingers over the bare skin there, making Susan shiver.

His index finger slid under the first lace, loosening it. Then the next. And the one after that.

Susan was vaguely aware of Caspian undoing the back of her dress. But, she found, it really didn't bother her at all. Not one bit.

In fact... she wished he would just rip it off her right then and there.

But he wouldn't, she knew that. Caspian was too much of a gentleman.

And there was the slight issue of the hall full of people right next to them.

~#~

"Where is the High King?" asked Reepicheep.

Edmund whirled around to look at the throne where Peter had been lolling not five minutes ago.

"Shit!" he exclaimed under his breath. He scanned the room. And then, out of corner of his eye, he saw two figures out on the terrace, embracing passionately.

One was in red. The other was in blue.

"Oh, Aslan," he cursed.

Peter had to be found.

~#~

Caspian wasn't having much luck with the top of the dress, so he changed tack. Trailing his lips down to the hollow where her shoulder and neck met, his hand crept to the bottom of the laces.

Susan's lips met Caspian's neck and her nails dug into his back. He was succesfully sending her crazy.

Touch his only guide, Caspian worked his fingers under the laces that fastened just above Susan's waistband. The shiver that ran through her told him he'd done something right.

Slowly, he wiggled his hand up against the soft skin of her back. Susan's hand on his back curled tighter.

He moved his lips back to hers, her tongue demanding entrance. He shifted his hand inside her dress so that he was holding onto her waist beneath the cloth, his thumb brushing her corset's edge.

Susan shivered. He was too good at this.

~#~

Peter had made it to the long balcony that led around the side of the hall.

"There once was a king so wise and so sage,

And good king Farilian was his name," he sang, the words slurred and indistinct. It was pretty obvious that he couldn't remember the lyrics - or the tune, for that matter.

"He was truly a warrior, no less for his age,

He was fair and good and just and fair,

And he had really lovely hair,

But Farilian it could be said was thick

And he only ever thought with his - "

~#~

Edmund was desperately trying to find his brother before he got to Susan and Caspian. Where the hell was he?

Susan is going to kill me if Peter interrupts them making out.

And he shuddered, whether from fear or simply from the phrase 'making out' being used in relation to his sister, he couldn't tell.

~#~

Susan's heart was having the best workout of its life.

Caspian's hand was still holding her waist inside her dress, below her corset. His other was dangerously close to her ribcage. The dress she was wearing had become somewhat more revealing due to the three laces that the young Prince had managed to get undone.

Caspian was practically insensible.

So he didn't notice the singing.

"O for the love of a maiiiid

One so sweet and prettyyyy and things like thaaat

One with curls and soft lips and I can't remember the words

A girl who you can sing toooo

A girl who you can make loove tooo

O sweeeet looooooooove

With your beautiful bodyyyy

Bounce the beds my girl

I shall make you - "

Luckily, Peter's description of what he was going to make this poor girl do was curtailed by him staggering onto the terrace.

"Oh, hellllloo," slurred the very definitely high King. "Dancing out here are we?"

Susan and Caspian sprang apart. Of all the people to interrupt them!

Luckily he was so drunk that he didn't notice that Caspian's hand was still in his sister's dress as he made like he was standing by her side. Or the hand that Susan had up Caspian's clothes.

"Suuuu!" He sounded genuinely overjoyed to see her. "Ishn't it a lovely evening? All thanksh to Cashpian of course."

Peter suddenly seemed to notice Caspian for the first time. "Caspian! Mate!"

Caspian's face was an absolute picture as a sloshed Peter hugged him. "I always liked you, man. You're... cool."

Caspian tried not to laugh.

"And NOW I must take my leave of you! Once more, into the breach, dear friends!"

And Peter staggered off, still quoting and singing aimlessly (and tunelessly) as he went.

It took one look at each other's faces to have them roaring with laughter.

"He - you - us - " Susan tried to speak.

"I thought he was going to kill me, if he ever found out," laughed Caspian, "but he hugged me instead!"

He had to hold her up as she threatened to fall to the ground and roll around laughing.

Suddenly she stopped laughing, remembering the location of his hand. Caspian also went silent.

"We can be seen out here, my lady."

Suddenly, Edmund came dashing out onto the terrace. "Pete, don''t - "

He saw Caspian and Susan. He also saw the location of their hands.

"Ah. Right. Sorry, just to tell you to watch out for a very inebriated Peter." Edmund looked at his shoes.

"The High King has already made his presence known," said Caspian, an odd expression on his face.

"Oh."

And you're still alive? thought the Just King in disbelief.

"He went off quoting Shakespeare at the top of his voice," elaborated Susan. "That way." Sh pointed.

"Right. I'll just... go find him, then. See you guys."

Caspian nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

"Ed," said Susan quickly. He looked around as he walked away. "Thanks."

"Any time," he said, with a strained smile.

I do not deserve him as a brother.

Susan turned back to her prince. "What were you saying?" she asked, tipping her head to one side.

~#~

"Do you want this?" Caspian's voice was low, passion ringing in every word.

"Like nothing else."

Susan took a step towards him. Caspian took a step towards her.

And then they were in each other's arms, not entirely sure where one person ended and the other began. It was not as simple as lips and skin and limbs and hair. It was two people who could never be parted.

Because they were the two halves of the whole.

Susan's hands pressed against Caspian's tunic. Caspian's held Susan's waist gently but tightly.

His lips left hers, burning down to her throat. Susan gasped, her fingers hooking into his clothing.

Caspian suddenly pulled back, his eyes dark. They were intent on her face.

Susan looked back at him. What was there to say?

A new expression crossed his face. It was as if he had found what he had been searching for in her eyes.

And then he was kissing her again. But now, his hands crept back to the laces of her dress.

Susan barely held in a gasp as his hands brushed against her suddenly heated skin. Slowly, torturously, he undid the first lace.

Caspian was finding it difficult to keep a clear head. He wanted to do this right.

The next two laces fell away, loosening the dress. The sleeves slipped an inch down her arms.

Susan reached up to the fastening on Caspian's neck, fumbling with it until it came undone. A V of his Hispanic looking skin was suddenly exposed to her.

She tugged at the bottom of it, wanting it off.

Caspian seemed to read her thoughts, and pulled back. He let Susan try to get it off him, before gently stopping her hands and ripping it off over his head.

He felt Susan's eyes on him as he dropped the tunic to the floor in a pile of red fabric. He pulled her to him once again, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. Susan sighed, hands going to his mahogany hair.

Caspian's hands returned to the back of her dress. The sleeves slipped down further - and so did the rest of the dress.

Caspian breathed in very fast at the sight of the lace at the top of Susan's Narnian corset. He brushed his lips in a line an inch above the elaborately worked white cloth, eliciting a shudder from the Gentle Queen.

Susan felt the dress sliding down over her stomach. She looked up at Caspian, whose lips had left her skin.

The look on his face made her heart pound.

The dress pooled around her ankles, leaving her in corset and petticoat. She looked up again at Caspian, her Prince, her love.

He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her out of the mess of blue fabric, bringing her to within an inch of him again.

She turned her attention to his white shirt. Susan's hands slid under the linen, tracing all over his heated skin. Caspian moaned low in his throat. Her fingers started to fiddle with the buttons, undoing them in a rush.

The shirt swung open. Susan pushed it off his shoulders and then moved her lips there. Caspian's hands tightened on the strip of bare waist above her petticoat, finding the button. He fumbled with it until it came undone.

The lacy underskirt fell to the floor. Susan kicked it to the side.

Caspian's eyes trailed up her long legs. There were small nicks all over her calves - he assumed from the battle - and one long semi-healed gash that must have been from her fall in the forest.

Susan felt very exposed. But she ignored it as she bent to undo the straps on her shoes.

When she straightened up they were both barefoot. Caspian was only clad in his trousers, she in her underthings. He pulled her to him again.

"Mi reina," he breathed into her hair.

"My Caspian," she replied.

His hands on her waist spun her around. Susan realised what he was doing.

His lips brushed across her skin above the back of her corset. "Susan," he whispered.

Then he began to undo the laces at the back of the garment. With each lace, he kissed further down her bare back.

With the final lace undone, he let the corset drop.

He waited with bated breath for Susan to turn around. He did not wish to make her move before she was ready.

Very slowly, the Gentle Queen turned to face him. She was only inches away.

"My Susan," Caspian murmured. He pressed his hand to her heart. "How your heart beats," he whispered.

"It beats for you." Susan's voice was very low.

He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her flush with his body. They were both breathing quickly as they started to kiss again, every line of their chest pressed together. His thumb brushed the side of her upper chest.

Slowly, they moved towards the bed. Suddenly, Caspian lifted Susan into the air and laid her on the bed, between the sheets.

She turned on her side as he climbed in beside her. He traced the side of her face as she held his chin in her hand, before moving the hand down to her waist.

"I love you, Caspian."

"As I love you, Susan."

Susan's hands traced all over Caspian's chest, and then down to his waist. She hooked her fingers in his waistband, her thumbs rotating against his skin. He shuddered.

She reached out to the laces of his trousers. They were... becoming somewhat tight.

Susan blushed. So did Caspian. Then, as one, they rolled so Caspian was on top of her.

Caspian kissed down and across her torso, burning her skin. Susan ran her hands across his back, feeling the muscles tense. His lips moved down to her stomach, making her whimper slightly. His fingers met the waistband of her final item of clothing.

Gently, Caspian pulled them down her legs. She was now totally exposed to him.

But he looked at her face. He looked up at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Caspian was awestruck by her. And that she was his.

He must have kissed and touched her everywhere, Susan thought a few minutes later, gasping into his shoulder.

"Caspian!"

Her eyes shut.

She had never felt anything like this before. Never done anything like this before.

Caspian moved his hand back to her waist, shifting them onto their sides.

"Mi amor," he breathed.

Susan returned to the real world, opening her eyes to look at him. "Oh, Caspian."

Her hands moved down to his trousers again. He groaned, then let Susan pull him on top of her again, bracing his arms either side of her ribcage.

Her hands ghosted over his body, followed by her lips, which trailed across his chest. She looked up at his face - she had never seen him look like that before. Ever.

The adoration on his face knocked the breath from her.

She reached out to hold his face, tracing his cheek. Her thumb stroked his lower lip.

Susan started in on the laces of his trousers. Caspian's eyes shut.

She pushed them down his long legs.

"Te quiero," whispered Caspian. "Te quiero."

Susan kissed the tip of his nose. "I can tell what that means... and I want you too." She looked directly at him. "Caspian." The word was no more than a breath that ruffled the hair off his face.

"You are ready, my love?"

"Never more than now."

Caspian felt like his entire body was one taut string. Every nerve was singing. He looked down at Susan, his Susan, his love, his reason for existence. She was perfect in every way - and she loved him.

He brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead with his lips. His arms were too busy holding himself up.

"Caspian," she breathed, a hitch in her voice.

"Mi Susan," he whispered, then, slow as the creep of the glaciers that had once lain in the Lantern Wastes, he pushed forward.

Susan's eyes rolled back in her head. It hurt. A lot.

"Querida? Are you well?" Caspian's face was anxious. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Just - give me a moment."

He kissed her forehead. "As long as you want."

Susan waited for the pain to fade. And then it became something different. Something completely other.

"Caspian." She said it with the faintest of pleas in her voice.

Caspian heard the want in her voice. And it only sent the odd feeling in him spiralling.

"Mi corazon," he whispered. My heart.

And he moved once more.

Susan fisted her hands in his hair. "Oh... "

Caspian buried his face in the side of her neck, sucking very slightly, before murmuring, "Yo pertenezco a usted." He kissed under her jaw. "Yo pertenezco a usted."

"I love you."

Caspian's body was all feeling. He had no soul without Susan. He could never be without her. Never.

Susan's eyes were tight shut as her entire consciousness threatened to fly out of the top of her head. Her arms were laid across his back, holding him tight as he murmured to her in an odd stream of Telmarine and English, the only thing she could intellege from it was his love.

It grew. That feeling grew inside her, until she was raising herself against his body. "Please, Caspian, please," she moaned.

"Mi reina, mi corazón, estoy enamorado de ti," Caspian said fervently, as his heart threatened to burst.

"Oh!"

Susan thought she might explode. "Please, Caspian, please!"

"Yo soy solo tua," he moaned into her skin. They were both panting and gasping and shaking.

It was the sound of his native tongue that sent her over the edge. Her back arched, her eyes shutting as she shouted his name over and over again.

Caspian was spiralling not far behind her. "Susan! Por favor - Susan!"

His eyes shut, then sprang open. He came face to face with his love. The expression on her face was breathtaking. Mind blowing. World stopping.

"Yo soy tuyo ahora," he gasped, "Eres mía." Fireworks flashed in front of his eyes.

He slumped forward. "Eres mía. Mi Susan, quedarse para siempre conmigo."

"I never want to leave you," whispered Susan into his hair, still seeing stars.

Caspian rolled off her, lying on his back beside her as they attempted to slow their ragged breathing.

Susan curled into him, resting her head on his slick chest, her slightly damp hair spreading out all over his skin. Caspian held her close as he looked up at the ceiling.

"I am yours now."


	5. Say (All I Need)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh look more adolescent hormones transmuting into smut. Retroactively posting this here.

They might have lain there for an eternity, Susan's head on Caspian's chest, his arms wrapped around her. Their legs were still tangled. It didn't seem to bother them.

They did not speak. There did not seem to be much to say now.

The Gentle Queen's hand traced patterns on her love's flat stomach. She noted the contrast in the colours of their skin. Caspian was the most beautiful shade of light coffee, while her skin was milky pale, with only a few freckles as excuse.

Caspian stroked her hair, inhaling her scent. "Mi corazon."

Susan turned her face slightly to look at him. "What does that mean?" Her voice was lower than normal.

"My heart," he replied, teasing out a tangle in her hair.

"My noble Telmarine," Susan said, touching the tip of his nose. "I love hearing you speak in your native language."

Caspian smiled, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

"What is it you were saying to me?"

He ducked his head slightly.

"Caspian? Tell me - there's no need to be embarrassed."

"I belong to you. I am in love with you. I am only yours. I am yours now."

Susan felt her heart pick up again. "Oh, Caspian."

"There was something else." He held her chin in his hand to get him to look at her. "Be mine, my Susan. Stay with me forever." His accent became thicker as he spoke.

The expression on his face was incredible. She had never seen such dedication, such passion on his face. Nor such love.

Tears gathered in Susan's eyes. "I'll never leave you, I never want to be away from you." She buried her face in his chest. To her, it was clear. The Pevensies would be remaining. They had to.

A twinge of fear plucked at her heart. What if the sense that it was her last time in Narnia wasn't just her being silly?

No. They had stayed before. They would again.

It was simple.

"I am sorry... it is difficult for me to say what I feel sometimes." Caspian's eyes had darkened.

Susan understood. Caspian had spent a loveless childhood surrounded by those who wished to use him - or worse. He had known only uncertainty and fear. It was no wonder that he had trust issues.

She tipped her head up to look right at him. "You never need to worry again, Caspian. Never again."

"With you... I am whole."

~#~

"To be, or noddo be, that ish the queshun!" called Peter, careening through the deserted corridor.

It was quite impressive, Edmund had to admit as he followed the sound of Peter's voice, that he was still standing.

There was an almighty crash.

"Or not," he muttered, speeding up.

"Ish thish a dagger I shee before me? No... iss a biiig man."

The Just King rounded the corner and saw what his brother had met.

Peter had crashed into one of the suits of armour that were dispersed around the castle. He was in a heap, covered in random bits of armour, giggling to himself.

"Right, Pete, time you were in bed," said Edmund firmly. He had been searching for Peter for the last hour. It was lucky that no one was really in a state to care where four of the five royals had disappeared to. There were Telmarine and Narnian nobles asleep all over the shop. Lucy had done the honours of 'closing the ball' about half an hour ago, not that anyone was really paying attention.

"Ello Ed!" The High King beamed as Edmund pulled him up from the mess of armour. He bear hugged his brother, nearly knocking him over.

"Oof!" Ed said as all the breath was knocked out of him. "Right, come on, I think you've made enough of a fool of yourself for one evening." He slung his brother's arm over his shoulders, bearing most of his weight.

"Funny thing," Peter slurred, "Sussn and Shpanish were danshing... I think he fanshies her."

"What gave you that impression?" asked Edmund, puffing slightly as he half-dragged Peter up the stairs.

"They were kishing, I thinksh."

"Susan? Kishing - sorry, kissing Caspian?" he asked artlessly. "Naah..."

"Then," Peter said triumphantly, "where are they noww?"

Edmund didn't reply.

"They're in luuurve, sweet Susan and noble Caspian!" he sang at the top of his voice.

Edmund gave up trying to shut him up.

"And they've dishapeeeaaaaaaared

To Ashlan knowsh wheeeeeere"

Ed had a bad feeling about this.

Oh, god, Peter.

They were only a few feet from Caspian's door. The younger Pevensie boy offered up a plea to the heavens that Pete would stop singing.

"And they won't be virgins in the moooooooooorniiiiiing!"

Too late.

"Sorry, mate," he muttered for Caspian's benefit.

~#~

Susan pulled herself up so she was lying next to Caspian, heads on the same pillow. "I love you, you know."

"As I love you," he replied, accent still pronounced. He flickered a glance to her lips, as if asking permission.

Such a gentleman, even now. How ever did I find him?

Susan shifted closer to him, tilting her head to kiss Caspian's lips. He placed his hands on her waist, drawing her closer. Susan cradled his face in her hands.

It was a chaste kiss, at least at first. Caspian's hands stayed on Susan's waist, just holding her. But then she pressed against him as if she were hungry. Her hands went to his hair, gripping him closer.

Caspian was having his usual problem of not being able to keep a clear head. Any ideas about propriety had gone right out the window... or should that be off the terrace?

He could barely remember his own name.

However, he did notice the singing. If you could call it that.

Susan pulled back, listening.

"They're in luuurve, sweet Susan and noble Caspian!"

"I know that voice," she said drily.

"And they've dishapeeeaaaaaaared

To Ashlan knowsh wheeeeeere"

"Peter," they said together.

"He won't - will he?" asked Susan, suddenly afraid of discovery. She pulled the sheet up to her neck.

"I am not sure." Caspian was tense. Aslan alone knew what he would do if Peter came in and found them in bed together. Or what Peter would do, inebriated or not.

"And they won't be virgins in the moooooooorniiiiiing!"

The pair were silent, listening. Then they heard Edmund's voice.

"Sorry, mate." It was clear this was aimed at Caspian.

There was the sound of something being dragged, and staggering footsteps. Peter's slurred voice faded into the distance, once again quoting the Bard.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow!" he cried, before there was an almighty crash.

They heard Edmund curse, very loudly. What he said would have burned the ears of even the most foul-mouthed dwarf.

Caspian looked at Susan, who was biting her lip in an attempt not to laugh. He had his lips pressed together, but his shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.

As the noises in the distance faded away, they both burst out laughing. Tears ran down Susan's face as she couldn't hold in her amusement. Caspian's eyes were wide with good humour.

Susan had forgotten how much she loved to see him laugh.

When, at last, the hysterics had passed, Caspian pulled her into his embrace once more.

"I thought we were discovered," he confessed, a slight smile on his face.

"So did I," replied Susan, wiping the tears from her eyes. "But his singing!"

"Indeed, I do not believe that High King Peter should take it up as a hobby."

Outside, the clock struck.

The bell clanged once, twice, then ten more times. Midnight.

"Today you become king, Caspian," Susan whispered.

"I know." His face was unreadable.

"What is it?"

"I do not think I am ready." He repeated what he had said to Aslan.

"I know you are." She stroked his cheek.

"What if I do not meet the needs and expectations of the Narnians? The Telmarines already doubt me." The look on his face was heartbreaking. "What if I am not worthy?"

"Caspian. No matter what you think, without YOU Miraz would still be in power, and the Narnians would still be fairytales. It is your destiny." She brushed the hair off his forehead. "Trust me."

"I trust you, Susan. I do not trust myself, but I trust you." He hugged her closer, kissing the top of her head.

She smiled. "And remember, I most certainly would not be here now if it were not for you. I would either still be in Finchley, or I'd have been killed by the Telmarine army."

Caspian smiled slightly. "That is true, I suppose."

Susan propped herself up on one elbow. "And that's a good thing?" she pressed, gently teasing.

Caspian buried his face in her shoulder. "A very good thing."

They stayed like that for a moment. Then Susan remarked, contemplatively, "Peter was right about one thing, though."

"Oh?"

She leant up, looking down at him. "We're definitely not virgins any more."

Caspian pulled her down, making her giggle in a most un-Susan-like way. "Definitely not."

She climbed up on top of him, still laughing. "I think we nixed that one pretty well."

"Nixed?" Caspian was a little light headed.

"Kaboomed. Destroyed. Put the kibosh on. Killed. Annihilated." With each word, Susan kissed him for a second.

Caspian looked up at her as she grinned down at him. He held her hip. "Tienes los ojos mas bonitos del mundo," he whispered, running his free thumb under her eyes.

Susan leant down to kiss him - and her lips conveyed her meaning very well to Caspian.

"Carino... you are not... hurt?"

Susan blew her hair out of her eyes. "I think I can deal with it." She lowered her lips to Caspian's. "Please?"

"You did not need to ask," he laughed, before going silent as Susan shifted over him. He guided her into place with two gentle hands on her waist.

Susan sucked in a breath as they joined. Caspian immediately froze in anxiety.

"Susan? Mi cielo, are you well?"

She nodded. "Yes - it doesn't hurt."

Caspian fixed his eyes on Susan's before he moved upwards, then back again. She shuddered, then moved with him. Their eyes never left one another's.

"Oh, Caspian," sighed Susan, her eyes shutting as one of Caspian's hands moved upwards.

"Mi tresore," he said, his voice low and rough.

The neat sheets had been pretty much nixed by now. They were rumpled all around the pair of tangled bodies, moving quicker now. Susan's breath was coming in gasps and soft mewls, interspersed with pleas. Caspian was murmuring to her in broken Telmarine, closer to a moan than actual speech, as her hands moved across his chest. He caressed hers too, eliciting a drawn-out sigh.

I do not deserve her.

And then Susan's head tipped back, her spine arching. "Oh!"

Almost at the exact same time, Caspian jerked, the hand he had on her waist tightening as he pushed into her. "Susaan."

At once they were falling, or maybe they were flying. Who knew? Their voices mixed their names together in the still night, hanging in the air of Caspian's room. Their breath was one, as was their motion.

"I love you!" cried Susan, slumping onto him as he shouted the same thing in his own tongue.

"You are all I need," said Caspian in a broken and ragged whisper.

Susan sprawled across his chest. "And I am here."

They began to drift into sleep, Caspian pulling the sheets up over them to ensure his love stayed warm, wrapped around each other. Their heart beats were the same.

The future king of Narnia held the Queen of Old's hand, and tightened his arm around her waist. This felt - right.

I want her by my side forever.

"I don't care what Peter says," murmured Susan in a sleepy whisper. "You're a better swordsmna than him any day."

Caspian laughed, then kissed the top of her head as she fell asleep.

"Stay with me forever, Susan. Stay with me for always," he breathed.


	6. With You In My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ, I had forgotten the amount of smut in this story. Retroactive posting continues; this is still from the early days of my sixteenth year.

Caspian woke early, while dawn's rays were only just touching the walls of his chamber. He would have been happy to stay there indefinitely, cradling his love in his arms.

He watched her sleep, holding her gently to his chest. As he felt her skin on his, he thought of what they had done together.

They had forgotten all inhibitions. All fears. All rules. All strictures of propriety.

And they had given themselves over to one another in the most complete way possible.

We are truly bonded now.

Caspian had forgotten all about his coronation, transfixed by the woman in his arms. His Susan, his Queen. His fairytale come true.

Susan was stirring, her eyelids fluttering. Caspian watched her flinch slightly as she opened her eyes to the light, and shut them tight again, screwing up her face. He smiled in amusement.

Adorable.

Finally, she decided to wake up properly. She rubbed her eyes, looking up at Caspian. "Morning," she yawned.

"Good morning," he smiled, brushing the hair out of her face. The raven-coloured locks were in an absolute mess.

The Gentle Queen looked through her lashes at her love. She would be happy to wake up every morning like this.

Susan pulled herself up to Caspian, snuggling into him. "I don't want to get up. I just want to stay here with you."

"And I with you," he returned, his accent making it sound a very alluring prospect. Then again, he made just about anything sound like an alluring prospect... to Susan's ears, at least.

They lay there for a while, just content as they were. Caspian stroked her hair down to her waist in long lines. Susan rested her cheek on his muscular chest.

"Not long to go now," she commented, looking up at him.

"Not long."

"Don't worry. I know you will be the finest King Narnia has ever known." Susan, sensing that she had relaxed him a little, became flippant. "Considering your many ... talents."

"Talents?" Caspian lightly touched a couple of marks that blemished her pale neck and shoulders. Susan poked her neck - it throbbed lightly.

She looked down at herself: there were several more little red marks on and around her collar bones and chest. She looked up at Caspian in consternation. He had the good grace to look slightly abashed.

"You!" She grabbed him. "I'm covered in -" Susan stuttered, looking for the right word.

"Love bites?" Caspian's face was innocent looking as he looked at her from behind his rumpled brown hair.

"I'm covered in love bites! How am I supposed to cover them up?" Susan tackled him, rolling over his body.

Caspian held up his hands. "I am sorry, my Queen." He blushed. "I was not fully in control of my actions last night."

"You - " Susan hit him in the chest.

"That, my Queen, I will not stand for." Smirking somewhat, he pinned Susan down with his body.

Susan was instantly distracted. How wanton must she be, she dimly thought in a far-off corner of her brain.

He looked down at her, again the picture of innocence. "I am truly sorry, Susan. I did not wish to cause you discomfort."

Susan did not know what to say. She was too busy noticing how much of Caspian was on her.

"Oh, come here, you silly boy," she half laughed, pulling his face down to hers. Her arms locked around him. But Caspian was not to be defeated, even as Susan pulled herself on top of him.

"Silly boy?" he asked, flipping them over again.

"I-" Susan was speechless again.

Caspian trailed his lips across her collar bones, then lower. Susan shivered. His lips worked their way back to her neck...

"CASPIAN!" She thwacked him. "What did you not understand about 'I can't cover them up'?"

Susan shoved him, giggling. The pair struggled with each other for a moment, the sheets becoming ever more snarled up around their still entangled limbs.

"Uh oh, Cas-"

Too late. Caspian fell off the edge of his bed, accidentally pulling Susan down with him. They tumbled to the floor in a mess of arms and legs, Caspian making sure Susan did not get hurt.

"You-" Susan began, leaning up to glare down at him. But she was caught off guard, and instead she leaned down to kiss him.

How does he continue to have this effect on me?

~#~

"FUCK OFF!" yelled High King Peter, throwing the nearest thing to hand at the door. In this case, it was a wrought iron candle stick.

The terrified page ran for it.

"It is SEVEN AM, I have been WOKEN UP AGAINST MY WILL, and I have a FUCKING HEADACHE!" he shouted, rolling over. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Peter was never a morning person... and his hangover had worsened things.

~#~

"Shhh," murmured Caspian, holding Susan to his chest, "You will wake the whole castle."

She didn't reply, merely muffling a moan against his shoulder as he moved within her. Her hands had fisted into his hair several minutes ago.

"Carino," he whispered, knowing her to be close.

Susan screamed into his shoulder, her eyes rolling back in her head.

He wasn't far behind her, groaning into her hair. "Mi Susan, mi reina."

~#~

"JUST GO AWAY, ALL OF YOU!"

"Pete?" Edmund asked, putting his head around the door.

"FUCK. OFF!"

"That's a fine reward for me managing to drag you up two flights of stairs and into bed while you were practically cataleptic," replied Edmund, drily. "Or had you forgotten? You went off, singing those pub songs you're not meant to know, and declaiming - badly, I might add, on both counts - from Shakespeare, all at the top of your voice." Ed considered. "And tunelessly, too."

"Go awaaaaaay," the somewhat less-than-magnificent King moaned, pulling a pillow over his face.

It's at times like these that I wish Narnia had invented the camera.

~#~

"I should go," whispered Susan, almost as if that would help them keep it a secret. "Lucy will be awake and looking for me."

Caspian let her free, watching her from the floor as she gathered up her things, then simply pulled her dress over her head. She looked over her shoulder.

"A little help?"

Caspian, ever the gentleman, stood up and walked to behind her. He started to relace the ties of her dress, with mixed results.

"I think that I preferred it when I was undoing this," he grimaced. "I am not used to ladies' clothing."

Susan laughed. "I think I'm decent." She spun around, then caught his face in her hands. She kissed him briefly, but long enough to have them both wanting more.

"I'll see you later," she said as she walked out the door.

A light was glowing in her eyes that meant something.

Susan... was going to be teasing him.

~#~

"Nice of you to join us," commented Edmund, as Peter stomped into breakfast.

"Not a word, Edmund Pevensie, not a word," he growled, slumping into a chair. He eyed the bowl of fruit before him as if it had done him a great wrong.

Caspian strode into the room, dressed in black trousers, dark green shirt and the ever-present boots.

"Hi Caspian!" chirped Lucy, the only one unaware of any tension in the air.

He bowed his head. "Good morning, my young queen."

Keeping his eyes away from the chair opposite from him, he sat down.

Edmund inside was screaming. How the hell was he supposed to handle this one? His sister was bonking Caspian, he knew it.

Ughhhhh. Too much information, Ed. Way too much.

And if Peter found out, he would probably murder Caspian, coronation or no coronation.

"Stop staring at my feet!" exclaimed Peter to Lucy, who barely held in a giggle. He was hilarious when drunk, and equally so when hungover. Win win package.

"Good morning, Peter?" said Caspian in a somewhat confused voice.

Peter grunted something that might have been a greeting.

Under the table, something touched his foot. Caspian kept a straight face, not wanting to worsen the High King's mood.

Because nothing would sour it more that Peter finding out exactly why the sheets in Caspians' room looked as though they had been in a gale force wind.

Susan's bare foot inched its way up his leg. Caspian flashed her a look. Her only expression was, ironically, one of total purity and innocence.

Not so much the Gentle Queen now.

Susan had given up on behaving like a queen when Caspian was concerned.

~#~

"Su?"

Susan looked around. "What, Lu?"

"Where were you last night?"

Susan froze. How did she know that she hadn't been back to her room?

"I mean, at the ball. You just disappeared. Did you go to bed?"

Susan sighed with relief. "I just was tired... and a little sick of seeing Pete make a fool of himself."

The youngest Pevensie giggled. "Did you see him dancing?"

"No, I missed that particular bloodbath."

"It was so funny; he tried to do the waltz, with me of all people - he ended up nearly knocking over a table. I had to jump out of the way pretty sharpish." Lucy's eyes sparkled with her amusement.

Or maybe it was something else.

"Did you see where Caspian went last night, either?" She smiled sweetly.

"No idea." Susan crossed her fingers behind her back. She knew exactly where he'd been last night.

"Strange... I coud have sworn I saw you together." Lucy was no longer acting like a twelve year old.

"We danced a few times, yes," demurred the Gentle Queen.

"He fancies you, you know." Susan said nothing. "And I know you fancy him too."

"I think you must have got the wrong idea, Lu."

Shit.

~#~

Caspian was just coming back from the stables when he bumped into Edmund.

"Hello, Edmund."

Edmund's eyes were on his shoes. He still felt very awkward about the whole situation.

"Hi, Caspian."

The young prince was about to continue on his way when Edmund caught his arm.

"Can I have a word?" His tone meant business.

Caspian had been expecting something like this from one of the Pevensies - but not this brother. Somewhat taken aback, he nodded. "Of course."

Edmund's face was priceless. Half totally embarrassed, half determined.

"Listen, I'm not going to try to run you through because you fancy Susan. It's fine with me that you guys are..." He searched for the right word. "Together. But, if you even think of screwing her over, I'll kill you."

WRONG PHRASE! WRONG PHRASE!

Caspian had no idea what 'screwing someone over' involved, but he could guess, and kept his mouth shut.

"Just... be good to her, OK? I don't want to know what you guys are doing, but I'm cool with it," he lied. He still felt faintly nauseated every time he thought about what it was blatantly obvious they had been doing.

Now that the awful 'defend my sister's honour' bit was done, Edmund smiled. "I'm happy for you guys."

Caspian smiled widely. "Thank you, Edmund."

Edmund punched him on the shoulder as he walked off.

"Oh - and another thing." Caspian turned back, a question in his face.

"Don't let Peter find out by accident. Or he will skewer you on your own sword and hang you out as a flag."

And he thinks I'm joking.

~#~

King Peter was not a happy bunny, as they said. Well, in Narnia, they actually said, 'not a bouncy dufflepud', but he was damned if he would say the word bouncy in relation to himself.

His head felt like a two tonne wrecking ball was swinging back and forth inside it.

His entire family had made fun of him.

And soon he wouldn't be the top dog in Narnia.

It'd be Caspian.

~#~

There were only a couple of hours to go. Caspian was getting a little jittery inside, but outwardly he appeared to be the picture of ease. As he oversaw the final preparations, his mind kept returning to Susan. Susan, Susan, Susan.

And now she was looking at him. He nearly knocked over his glass.

He knew she was playing with him. The Gentle Queen knew how to flirt, all right.

~#~

Susan was rather enjoying beahving like a normal teenage girl around Caspian. She wanted him. Dear GOD, she wanted him.

But there was no time today.

So instead, she had caught him briefly once or twice, just to press her lips to his.

"You are sending me insane," he had said to her around by the kitchens.

It takes two to tango, thought Susan.

~#~

"Susaann." Caspian moaned as Susan's mouth sucked at his neck. She had him pinned to the wall, and was talking revenge for the marks she had had to hide with powder.

And then she had gone. He rubbed his neck, as if to check she had been real.

~#~

"Caspian? Your majesty?"

He started back into the real world. No prizes for guessing where his mind had been.

"The animals of the forest are united. We shall come to your coronation," Trufflehunter said proudly. "We will never forget the salvation you brought."

"I am glad I did not kill you, your majesty, if I may be so bold to say," commented Reepicheep, paw on his rapier's hilt as ever.

Caspian watched as Susan walked across the lawn.

"So am I," he replied, eyes fixed on her.

~#~

"I would take you right here if I could," muttered Caspian as he passed Susan in the corridor.

She pretended as if she hadn't heard.

But as she turned around the corner, she looked over her shoulder, and mouthed one word. The one word that would, without fail, annihilate all other thoughts in his head.

"Later."

~#~

Caspian could barely take it any more. A day of snatched moments and loaded glances had turned him into a mess.

Susan was just rounding the corner.

He came up behind her, and clamped his hand over her mouth. She squeaked as he pulled her into a dark room.

Her lips met his, and his tongue went into her mouth. She sighed, hands fisting into his hair and shirt.

There were no words. He just lifted her up against the wall - and he took her, leaving her screaming his name into his shoulder.

"This is your doing," he had breathed.

"Mission accomplished," she had replied.

Saucy minx.

~#~

Caspian knew it had been a bad idea. He had known it from the start.

So why on earth had he agreed to sword fight with Peter? Especially considering that he was still like a bear with a sore head.

The sword swung over his head as he ducked. Caspian spun on the spot, then jabbed his sword out towards Peter's ribs.

He made contact. Possibly a little more than he meant to, considering that Peter went straight down.

Unless it was the wine bag that Peter's stomach had in all probability turned into.

But he wouldn't give up. He dragged himself back up, pulling back his sword.

Again and again their swords clashed. Caspian had landed hits on him several times, but Peter refused to give up.

This is not about a swordfight. This is about the throne of Narnia.

Finally, Caspian whirled in a circle, whipping his sword above his head. He lunged and thwacked Peter in the chest.

He stayed down now.

"I may have been wrong about you," Peter muttered, eyes closed.

Caspian bent down - and held out a hand. Peter took it, surprising Caspian, and let him help him up.

The Magnificent King looked right at the future king of Narnia.

"Maybe you'll make a decent King after all."


	7. Eyes on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look it's that time my friend had a kink about masquerade balls and got me to write this 
> 
> retroactive posting from my youthful forays into smut continue

"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE?" roared Peter.

The hangover had not subsided, and was showing no signs of doing so any time soon. Which kind of sucked for anyone on the receiving end of Peter's temper.

Lucy stared at her big brother in disbelief, before turning on her heel. She fled down the corridor, tears threatening to spill.

~#~

SMACK!

"What was that for?" exclaimed Peter, reeling backwards from Susan's stinging slap.

Her eyes narrowed. "For being such an unmitigated bastard to your little sister, who is now in tears in her bedroom," she snapped.

"WHAT DID I DO?"

SMACK!

"Wrong answer. Go and apologise, right now!"

"QUIT HITTING ME!"

SMACK!

SMACK!

THUNK.

"God, what put you in such an almighty bad mood?" yelled Peter from the floor, where his sister had knocked him down to. She was stronger than she looked, especially when irate.

Which she was now.

"You are behaving like a prima donna with everyone. You made a prize prat out of yourself last night, and now you're taking it out on everyone else."

She turned on her heel, a withering look on her face. "Not exactly the behaviour of a King, is it? Much less a magnificent one."

Peter growled to himself. Then he heard a small chuckle from behind a curtain.

"Get out, Ed!"

"She was right about the behaviour thing, you know," the Just King commented as he jumped off the windowsill.

He grinned as he passed his brother. "Not to mention about the prize prat bit."

Edmund: two. Peter: nil.

~#~

"I cannot stay long," said Caspian in that delicious accent of his.

They were in the castle grounds. Caspian had gone for a walk on the pretence of needing air - his coronation was in an hour and a half. He had put a jacket in the Telmarine style over his shirt, and someone had obviously made him take a comb to his hair.

Susan had also dressed for the coronation. Her dress was deep red, with a square neck. She looked perfect - to Caspian's eyes, at least.

She nodded, letting him pull her down beside him. They sat on the lawn, backs against the wall of the castle.

An outsider would notice how young they looked. They did not look so much the monarchs of the two ages of Narnia, nor even adults. They looked like the teenagers they were. Susan had turned seventeen a month before, with Caspian two years her senior.

There wasn't passion, not now. It was just companionship, as Susan leant against his shoulder and Caspian tilted his head to rest against hers. The afternoon sunlight, streaming through the trees, cast a bright shaft across their hands, which were clasped atop their touching legs.

They didn't speak, not at first. Somehow, they didn't need to. Their connection went deeper than mere words, mere voiced sentiments. They were bonded in heart.

"It will all be okay."

"I have you. How could it not be so?"

Susan couldn't fault his logic. To her mind, everything would be fine because she had him.

"True," she replied.

"Unless you are going to continue to tease me?" asked Caspian, as archly as his accent would allow.

Grinning wickedly, Susan stood up.

"I bet you can't catch me!" she laughed, before sprinting off.

Caspian, grinning, took off after her. She had made for the ornamental gardens - with their interwoven paths and high hedges.

I think I can see why she has chosen that part of the grounds.

Susan's skirt flew out behind her as she pelted - in a most un-ladylike manner - through the ornamental gardens. She dodged around a hedge into the deepest part.

Caspian, hair blowing in front of his face, ran after her. A smile spread across his features as his long legs carried him through the gardens.

"Susan!"

"You'll never catch me!"

Susan ran at full pelt around a corner, hearing Caspian's footfalls behind her. She weaved in between the ornamental hedges and sculpted trees, her laughter pealing up into the branches.

Caspian, unable to stop laughing, decided to take the iniative. He dodged around the opposite way from where Susan had gone.

Lost him. I win.

A pair of hands seized her around the waist. Susan, unable to stop herself, shrieked.

The smile on Caspian's face widened as he spun her to face him.

"Gotcha, as I believe the phrase is," he said, grinning.

~#~

Peter had finally woken up a bit. However, he now had to deal with his guilt... and the embarrassment that he had bestowed upon himself by behaving like a drunken fool the night before.

He knocked on Lucy's door. "Lu?"

"I thought you wanted me to go away?"

"Look, I'm sorry. Please let me in?"

There was a pause, and then the door opened. The youngest Pevensie's face was still tear-streaked.

"I'm sorry."

~#~

Susan looked up at Caspian. Caspian looked down at Susan. A charge passed through the air like a lightning bolt.

And then the moment was broken.

"Prince Caspian? Your Majesty?" called a voice from over by the castle.

Caspian looked around, torn.

And then he pulled Susan towards him with two hands on her waist. Susan tipped her face up to kiss him back, her hands holding his chin. Only her hips touched his body as he held her to him.

And then he was gone.

~#~

Caspian was a little nervous. If 'a little' meant 'completely and utterly terrified'.

However, he refused to show it. He stood tall, straight-backed and square-shouldered at the back of the ceremonial hall in the palace. His hair was brushed back, his boots shined. His face was handsome and entirely without fear, dishonour or dishonesty.

He looked every inch the young King who had saved them all.

Susan was sat, naturally, in the front row. Her eyes never left his face, throughout the entire ceremony.

Caspian had to try to put Susan out of his mind while he spoke the traditional words, pledging his fealty to his nation and his people. But it was difficult - especially when he swore to continue the royal line so that his people would be protected for ever more.

There is only one who I would wish to do that with.

It hit him by surprise when it came to the final words. The important ones.

"I crown you Caspian, King of Narnia and Telmar," rang out the voice of the bishop as the crown was placed on his head.

An almighty cheer went up. Caspian rose to his feet, looking out at the people that filled the hall. His people.

Susan's heart swelled. Her Caspian.

Caspian surveyed the hall, an odd expression on his features. Then a brilliant smile spread across his face.

"People of Narnia and Telmar," he spoke, voice carrying throughout the hall. "I swear to be the ruler you deserve - and I swear to be as far from Miraz's reign as is possible."

The cheer that went up then was deafening.

Susan was so proud of him. He would be a great King - the greatest, perhaps.

And then he turned to face her. The smile on his face was dazzling.

"Ser el mio," he whispered, so that Susan could read his lips.

"I am yours," she mouthed back.

~#~

It was as they were riding through the streets that the new King realised why he was so happy.

Caspian actually felt like he belonged.

Susan could barely keep her eyes off him. She had only ever seen him smile like that a few times before... and they had been occasions that noone else had been invited to.

It made her happy to see him that way.

And it was clear that the people already loved him. Noone could deny that the young King had garnered a lot of good will even in the short time that Miraz had been removed for. The streets were filled with cheering Telmarines and Narnians alike.

He will be a truly wonderful King.

~#~

"May I have this dance, my lady?" asked Caspian, bowing his head. He'd ditched the crown with Trufflehunter. He didn't feel like wearing it all the time.

That modesty and unassuming nature was bound to win him plenty of support. Not that he needed any more from the girl standing in front of him.

And besides - it was a masquerade ball. The top of everyone's faces were covered.

Not that it stopped Susan or Caspian from knowing the other. It seemed to him that he would be able to tell her from a sea of identical Queens.

Her lips curved into a smile.

"You may, mysterious gentleman."

~#~

"Who's Su dancing with?" asked Peter, talking to Reepicheep.

The little mouse, wiser than his species was credited for, edited the truth. "A Telmarine noble, I believe, my lord."

"Huh." Peter sounded unconvinced. He was ridiculously protective of his sisters. It was lucky Edmund was straight, or he'd have probably felt the need to shelter him from boys too. "They look awfully close."

"I would not be able to comment, your majesty," replied Reepicheep.

~#~

Their eyes stayed locked on one another as they danced. It was not like when they danced out on the balcony. It was much - darker than that. Deeper.

The charge in the air was almost tasteable.

At the end of the song, Caspian lifted Susan's hand to his lips.

"My lady," he breathed. Her breath stopped in her throat as his gaze locked onto hers.

His eyes had never been so dark.

~#~

"Wine, Peter?" asked Edmund, smiling innocently.

Peter shot a murderous look at him. "Ed Pevensie, I can and will kill you if necessary."

"Just spreading the joy, Pete," replied the insouciant Edmund, leaning back in his chair. "Just spreading the joy."

~#~

Queen Lucy was feeling very smug. Caspian was King, as he always should have been. Everyone was happy. All the Narnians were out of hiding.

And Susan was with Caspian.

Oh, sure, they were 'in disguise'. And they were 'just friends'.

Puh-lease, thought the Valiant Queen as she watched the ball. She knew where Susan was, despite her mask and new dress.

And by extension of that, she knew where Caspian was.

~#~

They danced again. Caspian's eyes were still dark... and she knew what with now. Because she felt it too, alongside that love they shared like their lifeblood. She felt it in every ounce of her being, as their bodies touched and their gazes locked.

Lust.

~#~

Caspian had never felt so much like a teenage boy.

Every time he looked at Susan, something stirred within the basest part of his soul. And it stirred him deeply. All he could see was her. And every time he saw her, he remembered something from the night before, and from their snatched moments together today.

Her face.

Her eyes.

Her skin.

Her lips.

Her hair.

Her voice.

Her body.

Which all led to a rather frustrated young King.

~#~

Susan looked across the hall as she was handed a glass by a young faun. She thanked him, and took a small sip.

Caspian was standing by the windows on the other side of the large room, conversing with Glenstorm. She could have picked him out from any number of people, she was sure.

Caspian's skin seemed to burn. He looked up - and saw the flames deep in Susan's eyes. He felt a small shock run through his body.

Susan kept looking at him. As if he felt her intense gaze, he looked right back at her. She nearly stepped back.

His eyes were on fire.

~#~

They met around the back of the dais with the thrones, hidden from the rest of the ball by the elaborate drapes. Somehow they had each know the other would be there.

There was a definite thrill in the air. Maybe it was the possiblity they would be discovered, maybe it was the fact that they were both disguised. It wasn't really on either of their minds, to be honest.

Caspian crossed the distance between them in three long strides even as Susan leapt at him. She barely registered the dark, deep chocolate of his eyes before his lips were burning on hers.

Susan wrapped her arms around him as he lifted her at the waist. He held her as if she were precious, delicate.

They kissed until they were both gasping for breath, and then some. Caspian's hair was already looking rather rumpled - and the evening was not done yet. Not by any means.

And the look of want in his eyes was still as present as ever.

~#~

It would be known as the party of the age. Narnians and Telmarines alike danced, ate and drank, celebrating the New Era that their young King had brought.

Susan and Caspian, however, weren't particularly bothered by that.

They were hidden just outside the doors to the hall, Caspian pressing her into the stone even as Susan tightened every one of her limbs around his body. Their mouths were glued together, small moans just audible.

They were both incapable of any rational thought whatsoever. Susan was only able to register the feel of his hair under her hands, and his lips on hers. Caspian was in an even worse state, barely being capable of resisting the desire to have her then and there.

So it wasn't surprising that neither of them noticed the small, smug-looking girl pass them.

~#~

The fireworks exploded above the castle, drawing a susurrus of 'oohs' and gasps from the assembled guests. Susan watched them, cradled against Caspian's side.

They both looked up at the huge burst of red and blue in the night sky, his arm wrapped around her waist.

It was perfect.

~#~

"I do not feel like a King," Caspian commented, looking out at the woods.

They had stolen away as the ball had just got into the more-than-slightly-tipsy stage.

"I don't feel like a Queen," replied Susan, fairly. "It's not who I am... it's what I am."

Caspian nodded, understanding her words perfectly, as ever. "I am not King Caspian - I am just Caspian. That which you see is me."

Susan laughed slightly at his earnest declaration. "And I am just Susan."

"I thought it was your brother who was the Just King?" he asked, amused. He looked right at her.

She made a noise of exasperation and poked him. "I think I prefer it when you don't know how English humour works."

Caspian laughed, then looked back out over the grounds. In the distance, Cair Paravel's ruins could be seen.

"I think I shall rebuild it," he said, voicing his thoughts aloud.

"What?"

"Cair Paravel. I think it should be rebuilt." His eyes flicked back to Susan's, holding her gaze. "Your home should stand as it once was."

"You would do that?" she asked, feeling her heart beat irregularly. She knew that Caspian was very aware of how sad she was to have lost the beautiful castle of her past.

"I would do it for you, my Susan," he answered, his expression intense. His accent, as Susan was beginning to learn it always did when his emotions were strong, had thickened.

"Thank you," she whispered. He knew how much it would mean to her: it was to be his gift to her. He would recreate her palace for his Queen.

I would do anything for you, he thought.

A strange, elegiac melody rose up from the grounds. It was beautiful, sung in a language that neither of them understood.

"It's the dryads," said Susan, looking at Caspian. "This is their gift to you."

He shook his head. "To us."

He was right, she realised. Though she did not know their tongue, she could hear the feeling in the words.

Love.

The young King turned to her, holding out a hand. Susan smiled, matching his expression.

Out on the balcony that led from the French doors on the southern tower, they danced. He spun her around in a circle, before letting Susan guide him into the same sort of steps they had done the night before.

The involuntary smiles on their faces spread wide as the music floated up to them. They understood this - they felt this.

As the voices grew louder, the harmonies swelling, Caspian pulled her into his arms as they continued to move. Susan supposed this was the closest they would get to dancing like adults did in the pictures back in London.

Beats Ginger Rogers any day.

He held her away, and she let go of his hands as she danced on her own for a moment, putting her head down. Her hair swayed from side to side with the movement of her dancing.

Caspian watched, transfixed. Her shoulders shrugged, her chin tipping downwards to one side, before shifting her head to the other side. She was the same as the music.

Susan looked up at him, smiling faintly, then held out her hands to him.

They danced. King and Queen, holding hands and stepping towards and away from each other. Expressions of happiness and love painted both of their features.

The song faded away into the night. Their arms around each other, they slowed their movements to just a gentle sway. Susan's head was resting on Caspian's chest, the edge of her forgotten mask digging into him.

He looked down, realising they were still both masked. He smiled slightly, then hooked his fingers under the edge of the mask.

What Susan did then surprised him.

She caught his hands, shaking her head slightly. Her lips quirked very slightly as he stopped trying to take her mask off.

Caspian thought he knew what she meant. But he wasn't sure he understood. Nor was he sure of how things were going to pan out now.

And that was... kind of scary, he thought, as Susan pushed open the door back into the tower. She smiled cheekily, before starting to run. She had seen his eyes darken once again.

And very exciting, he realised, as he ran after her for the second time that day.

~#~

Edmund was in a pretty good mood... but there was an edge of tension underneath his good humour.

He had a feeling that Peter was starting to work it out. The High King knew that Caspian fancied Susan, of course he did.

Edmund was just praying that he didn't know where that had taken the new King... and Susan.

Maybe I should spike his drink, cover all the bases.

He nearly hit himself in the face. Did he have to keep thinking in the most inappropriate of phrases about his sister and Caspian?

Oh, sod it.

"I give up. I'm having a drink, and enjoying myself," he muttered, before taking a goblet of faun wine from a passing courtier's platter, and downing it in one.

~#~

Caspian pelted down the corridor after Susan. The sleeves of his shirt billowed around his arms.

Susan laughed, half in excitement, half in something approaching fear. She could tell Caspian was gaining on her.

She had made it only a little way into the castle before he caught her, dragging her into a small alcove. He had her pinned against the wall in an instant.

Even in the dim light, she could see the darkness in his eyes. It set her pulse racing and her head spinning.

"I believe I have caught you, my lady," Caspian said in that accent of his. His hand tightened on her waist.

"Indeed you have, my King," she replied, pressing herself into him. She kept her expression innocent.

He was about to kiss her when voices echoed over to them.

"So you say you saw two people up here?"

Susan and Caspian froze. He pulled her into the darkest corner of their hideaway, then stood flat against the wall beside her, in the hope they would not be found.

"Yes. I thought it was strange, considering that no one else is around."

A tense minute passed as three men, still masked, searched. They only let go of their held breaths as the men walked down the stairs.

The King put one finger over his lips. He took her hand, and they ran away on tiptoe.

We are always running from something. The thought cut at Caspian.

But then the exhilaration from their near-discovery and the thrill of running caught him in their spell. He bounded away from the source of the voices, Susan just about keeping in step with his reduced speed.

At the bend in the corridor just before Caspian's room, Susan stopped, slamming into his body. Surprised, he let her pin him against the wall.

Her lips moved down his neck - and she bit him!

Caspian groaned, his eyes closing. "Carino - "

Her hand ghosted across the front of his trousers. He couldn't take it. Caspian seized her and pressed his lips to hers.

Susan very nearly swooned, all though she would never have admitted it, when Caspian picked her up in his arms and strode to the door of his room, not breaking the kiss. He kicked open the door, before setting her down on the stone floor.

The door hadn't even swung shut when Susan flung herself at him. She pressed her lips to his with a passion that could have lit every candle in the castle.

Caspian's arms wound around her. His heart was already racing.

He once again tried to lift off her mask, but she danced away from him. That mischievous smile quirked her lips as she tipped her head to one side.

And she licked her lips, just once.

He understood then.

The room was only lit by a couple of candles. Their soft glow bathed them both in warm but dim light - adding another thrill to the element of disguise.

Caspian walked slowly to her. He caressed her cheek - and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him abruptly. His lips met Susan's heatedly.

Her hands immediately went to his jacket. She found the fastening, opened it, then tugged it off him. He threw it into a corner, lips meeting Susan's again for another endless moment, before they had to break away to breathe.

Susan kicked her shoes off even as Caspian removed his long boots, tossing them away. He bent down to the hem of her dress, and pulled it swiftly up. She raised her arms obligingly as he removed it over her head, leaving her in just underthings, petticoat, and mask.

Caspian's eyes darkened ever further behind his mask. Susan felt something curl inside her stomach.

The Gentle Queen, perhaps not so any more, slid her fingers under Caspian's shirt. She practically ripped it off him, letting it fall to the floor. She reached around to the back of her petticoat, and let it drop from her.

Caspian pulled her towards him, pressing her against his skin. He buried his face in her shoulder, leaving her with another mark. He darted behind her, and branded her skin with his hot lips as he unlaced her corset. He was faster this time around, being more au fait with the arrangement of the Gentle Queen's underthings.

As soon as it had dropped to the floor, she span around to face him again. She unlaced his trousers, releasing a groan from Caspian. He stepped out of them, as Susan dropped her final piece of clothing to the floor.

The atmosphere almost crackled around the two masked royals. Caspian's eyes burned with dark flames. Susan's lips were parted.

He kissed her, not wrapping his arms around her, just lightly pressing his body against hers. Susan leant back, and tangled her hands into his hair.

A moment later, Caspian pulled back, trying to catch his breath. Susan took his hand, smiling slightly, and led him to the bed.

They climbed in, wrapping around each other under the sheets.

Caspian moved on top of her. Her legs opened, and he half lay, half knelt between them.

"Now you have to let me see you," he breathed, slipping his fingers under the edge of the mask.

He pulled it off, and dropped it on the floor. He traced her face. "Mi corazon."

Susan reached up and pulled Caspian's mask off him. She saw her King, her love, her Caspian's face. The adoration and want in his expression made her heart stop as his lips moved down her body.

They kissed and touched and shuddered in a frenzy, taking and giving.

Susan opened her eyes to look at Caspian. His eyelids fluttered open as she moved her hands back to his waist. He shifted, pushing forward, his gaze locked on the reason for his existence.

And the love in his eyes again knocked her for six as he held her and began to move in earnest.

It was better now. They knew each other. They were each other. Every feeling was shared, every impossible, crashing, spiralling feeling.

"My King, my love," gasped Susan, wrapping her legs around him.

Caspian pressed his face into her collarbones, small groans escaping from both of them. "Mi querida, te amo. Te amo," he whispered fervently.

So softly he barely heard her, Susan whispered, "More, Caspian. More."

"Whatever you want, carino," he said into her ear. "Whatever - you - want."

They moved together, faster now. Deeper.

Susan's eyes were shut, her nails digging into his back. A series of moans and gasps and pleas set every nerve in Caspian's body on edge - but the edge one might be on before a great flight.

Caspian was speaking in an unintelligible, even to him, stream of his native language, his breathing ragged. He shuddered as her legs wrapped ever more around his waist, drawing him deeper. It would not be long for her, or for him, he could feel it.

Suddenly Susan cried out. "Oh, Caspian!"

"Susan!" he shouted almost at the same time.

Her back arched.

His arms tightened.

And they were both flying.

"Caspian - ohh - Caspian! CASPIAN!" she screamed.

"Soy sola tua! Te adoro! Mi Susan!" His voice was equally unguarded, echoing around the stone walls.

Susan's muscles tensed one more time, before she went limp. Her King slumped against her.

"I love you," they both gasped at the same time.


	8. Love Action (I Believe In Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking hell yet more smut what on earth was wrong with my sixteen year old self
> 
> retroactive posting continues

It took a while for speech to return, and even then they did not speak for a moment.

Caspian rolled off her, pulling her into his arms. Susan nestled her head against his chest, feeling his still erratic heartbeat pounding in her ear. The rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed raggedly brushed against Caspian's overheated skin. His tousled hair had fallen into his eyes, and was lightly tickling Susan's shoulder. Her damp locks spread all around her, some of it covering his chest. They were both covered in sweat, theirs and each other's.

And neither of them would have changed any of it for the world.

Susan twisted her ankle around Caspian's leg further. He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes with one thumb, then traced the side of her face, even more blood rushing to the surface. A slight smile spread across his face at her reaction to him.

Susan pressed her lips to Caspian's collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin. She inhaled - he smelled like her - and like... to put it lightly... sex. And as she inhaled deeper, she could still smell that particular scent of his. She knew what it was now, now that his scent had pervaded her own skin - the woods. He smelled like the woods after the rain.

That scent, to Susan, was the smell of love.

Caspian would have been happy to never leave that room. He was happier than he had ever been when he was with Susan. He knew how he had been changed by her, already. He had known her for only a couple of weeks - and yet he knew that she was all he would ever want.

"Cada hora que paso contigo me parece un segundo," he said to her, his voice husky.

Susan looked questioningly up at him.

"Every hour I spend with you passes like a second," he replied, holding her close.

Susan did not reply. She simply pressed a kiss over his heart.

As they lay there, they might have been any two teenagers in love. King and Queen, Narnian and Telmarine, all of that meant little when your entire being was devoted to another person. When your heart beat in tandem with another's.

When you were just the half of the whole.

~#~

Peter knows sometheing is up... Because something most definitely is...

Edmund groaned. What was it with his imagination? He had no desire to be thinking things like that about Caspian, and most certainly not his sister.

Nor the mechanics of their relationship... YUCK! YUCK! STOP IT!

For as wise and noble a ruler as the Just King was, he was still only a fifteen year old boy. And he really had major issues with the images running through his head.

~#~

Caspian held her flushed face in his Mediterranean-skinned hand.

"I love you," he said, stroking her cheek.

"I love you," replied Susan, reaching out to caress his side as he lay beside her. "I will always love you."

"There is no one like you."

Susan's lips quirked.

Caspian caught that. "My Susan, I could be presented with all the ladies of Telmar, of Narnia, of Archenland, of the Lone Islands, and not one of them could even begin to compare to you. I had not seen beauty until I saw you, my queen. I had not seen anything."

He looked deep into her azure eyes, desperately trying to convey his meaning to her.

Susan's heart pounded arrhythmically.

"I had not seen anything until I saw you," she replied, feeling tears in her eyes. "You are everything."

"You always will be my everything," said Caspian, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "Always, my Susan."

They lay there for an immeasurable moment, before they heard the sound of footsteps passing the door. Instinctively, they both froze. Caspian pulled the sheets up over them.

But no discovery came. The steps continued on past with no hesitation, disappearing into the distance.

They smiled ruefully at one another, then went back to breathing normally. They could be peaceful, at least for now.

"I'm glad I kept that mask," Susan commented about five minutes later.

"Oh?" Caspian's voice was quiet, spoken mainly into her hair.

"Made it very easy to seduce you," she explained, her hand lazily tracing his chest.

Caspian propped himself up on one arm, his expression amused. "To seduce me?"

Susan mirrored him so that she could look right at him. "Well - wait. You don't know what that means, do you?"

"Not really, my queen."

"Oh. Right. I suppose it means -" She blushed, trying to explain herself. "Well. I think... it means... I suppose I took control of the situation..."

Caspian understood perfectly. He now realised exactly why he had reacted to her actions in the way he had. She had seduced him, to a point.

"To get me to make love to you?" he finished for her, raising one eyebrow.

Susan's blush deepened. "Well, yes."

A smile pulled at the corner of Caspian's lips. He leant up, bracing one hand on the other side of Susan's ribs, then carefully rolled on top of her. He brushed the hair out of her eyes with his free hand... which then travelled lower, contracting with the gentlest of pressures. Susan felt her heart speed.

"But, my lady," he said, his eyes glinting with that same darkness she'd seen earlier, "there was no need for you to make me..." His lips trailed down, ending up in parallel with his hand. Susan gasped at his touches - and then the brief sting of his teeth. She shuddered.

Caspian pulled back, flames back in his eyes, though his expression remained playful. "I would have made love to you anyway."

That simple sentence sent a rush of heat through Susan. She grabbed him by the hips, flipping him over.

Any further comment that Caspian had been going to make went out of his head completely.

Susan worked her lips across his chest. She burned down his stomach, all insecurities and unsureness long gone.

And she didn't stop.

~#~

"What are you looking so smug about?" asked Peter, eying his sister from behind his mask.

Lucy just grinned ever wider. "No reason."

~#~

Caspian jerked, his hips arching off the bed. "Susaan!" he shouted once, then went still. His eyes shut.

His queen pulled herself back up to him, swallowing. She smiled at the effect she had had on her king.

"Mi cielo," he breathed, then pulled her under him to return the favour.

~#~

"Ed."

Edmund turned around slowly. He had a very bad feeling about this.

"What, Pete?"

"Have you seen Su?"

"Nope," Edmund half lied. He hadn't... at least, not in the last two hours. And, as such, he hadn't seen Caspian for that length of time either.

He shuddered, trying to forget what he had caught a glimpse of the last time he'd seen them.

He had gone to the bathroom, and on the way back he'd heard something that he had no desire to ever again. Small gasps, pants and moans, accompanied by the sound of heavy material rubbing against silk.

Already knowing exactly who it was, Edmund had slowly come around the corner. And he had very nearly been sick.

Caspian had had Susan pressed up against the wall, his hand on her waist. The other was snaked around her back, tucked - as Edmund well knew, from when he had seen them the night before - inside a fold in her dress.

Susan's left hand was tangled into Caspian's hair - and her right was hidden underneath Caspian's shirt. Her legs were tight around his waist, her skirt pushed up to her knees.

And that hadn't even been the worst of it.

Susan had moaned, loudly. As had Caspian. And they had continued to move, rubbing against one another's bodies, their mouths glued together.

Edmund's stomach had sunk into his boots. Why, oh why, had he chanced across his sister and Caspian grinding on each other in the hallway?

They had gone on like that, seemingly for an hour, their moving becoming frenzied. Edmund couldn't move, in case they saw him from the corner of their eyes. And then Susan had screamed into Caspian's mouth, even as he groaned.

Edmund had heard every bit of it.

"Let's go somewhere else," his sister had said in a tone most unlike her usual voice, as Caspian had put her down on the ground.

"The tower," Caspian had murmured in his Spanish-sounding accent, then taken Susan's hand in his.

Edmund had pressed himself into the shadows as they had walked quickly past, giggling like a pair of teenagers who had been doing something illicit.

Which they were, and had been.

"Ed?" His brother's voice brought him back to the present, not unwelcomingly.

"Wha?"

"Caspian. Where is he?"

"No idea where."

Peter humphed. He knew there was something up, he just didn't know what. He suspected Susan had probably just gone to bed - she had seemed tired.

Or, he hoped that was what was going on. He didn't want some Telmarine putting his dirty mitts all over his sister.

Though he'd enjoy gutting him with Rhindon. He wasn't High King Peter the Magnificent for nothing, after all. No matter what his siblings said.

No, he would defend Su's honour. Whether she wanted him to or not.

Edmund had seen that look before. And it made him very uneasy.

"They're probably just going down on the dancefloor," Edmund said, before nearly shattering the glass in his hand.

KILL ME NOW.

The Just King was more right than he would ever want to know.

~#~

Susan's hands fisted into the sheets at her sides. Her back arched. And she cried out her King's name into the night.

Caspian pulled himself back up to her and kissed her. The taste of her mixed with the taste of him, heavy on both their tongues.

The things we have done together, thought Susan. The things we have shared.

She pulled them both onto their sides, tangling her hands into his dampened hair. Her lips left his to say only one thing, looking deep into his pitch-like eyes.

"You are my King now."

Caspian pulled Susan's lips to his with a low moan deep in his throat. His hand held her face gently, but with steel under the softness.

He could already feel it inside him, inside the depths of his soul. The dark, deep emotion that he could not name, that run in countercurrent to his all-consuming love for Susan. The shivering curling that had begun to rise in him already.

Susan felt it too, that strange sensation within her very essence. He was her very essence now. What he felt, she felt. What she felt, he felt. They were the same.

Their sweat-covered bodies moved over each other, their breathing much faster now. Caspian's leg went between Susan's, seemingly of its own volition, and pressed upwards. She gasped.

Susan's knee bent, her leg shifting slightly up Caspian's side. Without really knowing what he was doing, he gripped her ankle, and pulled her leg up, hitching it over his tanned hipbone.

The Gentle Queen tugged at his hair as he kissed her shoulder.

"Now, please, now," she gasped frantically.

The young King looked right at her, then buried his face in her shoulder.

Susan gasped as he filled her. "Caspian," she sighed. Her love for him increased every second.

Caspian looked at her, slightly dazed, as she moved in his arms, her eyes shut.

He had never felt this way about anyone before. His entire world was dedicated to her now. He wanted her to be by his side forever, his Queen in all senses of the word.

He buried his face in her neck, his hand ghosting up to the side of her chest. His thumb moved in circles.

Susan's leg tightened around Caspian's waist, pressing him deeper into her. They both shuddered.

"Please," she whispered. All he could do was moan, tightening his hold on her."Please!"

Her nails dug into his back as she threw her head back as the knot inside her seemed to come undone. Caspian made her come undone. Made her fall apart, screaming his name.

Caspian lost it just as Susan stiffened in his arms. He shuddered from head to toe, moving erratically. He was spiralling again, spiralling in Susan's embrace.

"SUSAN! MI SUSAN!"

His cry echoed through the still air of his room, undercut only by the rapid pants of the lovers.

"My CASPIAN!"

Susan went limp, her slick body slipping against Caspian as he still moved. And then he gasped, "Te adoro," before going still.

It took a moment for their breathing to slow, their ribcages rising and falling in perfect synchronisation. It took another moment for Caspian to cradle Susan comfortably against his chest.

"Yo pertenezco a usted," said the new King of Narnia, the words closer to a breath than actual speech.

"Good," mumbled Susan sleepily.

And in the next they were asleep in one another's arms, both utterly content.


	9. Cut Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disgusting amounts of fluff I'm nowhere near this bad nowadays I promise
> 
> retro postin' continues

Caspian watched Susan sleep as the early sun's rays bathed their bodies in warm light. As they had slept, they had moved around so that the Gentle Queen was on her side next to the King of Narnia and Telmar, who lay on his back, head amongst the pillows. Her head was laid on his chest, her bent knees either side of his left leg. Her left arm was flung over him, along with much of her dark hair. Caspian's arms were wound around her, the tip of his chin just brushing the crown of her head.

Caspian smiled. He was happy. Miraz was gone, he had reached his destiny, the land would be at peace.

And he had Susan.

He stroked her face as she slept tranquilly in his arms, truly the Gentle Queen. He was rapt with attention, looking at every single freckle on her otherwise pale skin, counting her eyelashes.

"Stay with me, my Susan. Stay with me forever," he whispered. "Don't ever leave me."

He buried his face in her hair that smelled like a mix of him and her. The scent calmed him a little, but the fear still ran through him like acid burning in his veins.

Though Caspian would never admit it, he had severe abandonment issues. The thought of the people he cared for leaving scared him more than anything.

Miraz had a lot to answer for.

But all that was done now. Now he had everything he could have ever wanted, surpassing even his wildest dreams.

He had found where he wanted to be.

And he never wanted to leave.

~#~

Lucy yawned as she went along the corridor to Susan's room. She couldn't remember which was hers, and which was Caspian's.

Neither of them is likely to be too mad at me if I get the wrong room, the Valiant Queen thought.

She plumped for the first one, and pushed the door open.

"Oh!" Lucy gasped.

Firstly, it wasn't Susan's room. It was Caspian's.

Secondly, Susan was in the bed, fast asleep.

Thirdly, Caspian was also asleep next to her, his arms wrapped around Susan as her head nestled against his shoulder. His face was buried in her hair.

And... they weren't wearing anything, as far as Lucy could see. The sheets were pulled up to Caspian's waist, and he was holding Susan close enough to keep her shielded.

Peter is going to kill them.

She was about to leave, when suddenly Caspian jerked awake, sitting upright. His eyes snapped open - and then bugged out.

"Queen Lucy - I -" He stammered, his face scarlet. He attempted to pull up the sheets a little further. "It is not what it - that is, I mean - "

Lucy was also slightly pink. She knew the facts of life, so she understood exactly what had been going on.

"Calm down, Caspian. I'm not going to tell Peter."

His eyes stopped bugging out. A look of relief washed across his face.

"Thank you, Lucy."

"No problem... be thankful it was me that came in, not him."

Caspian froze. "I will tell him at some point."

"I'd probably do it soon... before Peter finds out."

The young king nodded, fully aware of the truth in her words.

"I'm glad for you both," was her parting shot as she turned to leave.

"Thank you, princesita."

~#~

Susan stretched involuntarily as she woke up. "Nnngaah," she half yawned, half groaned, her arms extending.

Her hand caught Caspian under his chin. Hard.

Susan's eyes snapped open. "Sorry!" she exclaimed, seeing Caspian rubbing his jaw slightly.

"It is fine," he replied, his voice still husky from the night.

A small shiver went through Susan at the sound of his voice. She remembered...

All sorts of things.

A flush suffused her pale skin as the images and sounds filled her head.

Caspian stroked her cheek, his expression adorably confused. "Why are you blushing, querida?"

Susan pulled herself up so that her head was on the same pillow as Caspian's mahogany locks. Their faces were directly in line with one another.

"I was remembering," she replied simply.

Caspian still looked baffled. "Remembering...?" He was so sweet when he was all befuddled looking.

"Last night," she explained, deepening in colour.

Caspian's face darkened. He looked hurt.

"You - regret it?"

Susan's hand flew to her mouth. "No! No, no, no!" She crawled over him, pressing kisses all over his face. "I could never regret any of it." She pulled back, looking intensely at him. "I never will regret it."

Caspian's face lightened once again, a still-bemused smile crossing his face. "Then why do you blush, my fair Queen?"

He was adorable. Absolutely adorable. No one in any world had ever been so adorable. No one.

"I don't know..." Susan smiled. "Okay, why don't you try thinking about last night? Properly, mind."

Caspian let his mind wander back.

Susan, pinning him up against the wall.

Susan, dress in a heap on the floor.

Susan, eyes tight shut, gasping his name.

Susan, her lips moving down to...

"See?" Susan asked in amusement. Caspian's face had gone a deep red underneath his tan.

He wound his arms around her again. "Yes, my Queen, I do."

~#~

"I have to go," said Caspian, tugging on his boots over his trousers.

Susan lay back, watching him pull the leather up around his calves. "Do you know when you'll be done?"

Caspian dropped a shirt over his head, doing it up quickly. He strode over to the side of the bed, and bent down to her. "I am not sure," he admitted.

"Hurry back to me," she said, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck. He briefly kissed her on the mouth, before straightening up.

"I will find you as soon as the council is over, I swear, querida." He yanked on his leather waistcoat, then made to leave.

"Wait."

Susan hopped out of bed and walked quickly over to Caspian. His mouth opened in surprise as her hands came to the front of his waistcoat.

"You did it all up wrong," she explained, smiling up at him.

He caressed her cheek, then pressed his lips to hers once more.

And then he was gone.

~#~

Susan got up about twenty minutes after Caspian had left. She pressed the pillow to her face once, inhaling their mixed scents on the linen.

There was no point to putting all of her clothes on again, so she just shoved her dress over her head and put on her shoes.

She pushed the door open - and crashed into someone.

"Ed!"

"Su?"

Both siblings stared at each other for a second - and then went scarlet. It seemed to be a Pevensie trait.

"I was - I, um -" Susan trailed off.

"Just off to the training ground," said Ed, eyes on the floor. Susan nodded mutely. "See you later."

"Yup." She could barely muster that syllable.

"I'll just go, then."

"Good."

"Better get it on, you know."

FUCK!

Susan nodded, unable to speak or meet her younger brother's eyes. She hadn't really heard what he'd said.

"Bye then."

"Bye."

The Just King walked around the corner - and proceeded to bang his head against the wall.

~#~

Caspian, to an outward observer, was behaving perfectly normally as he dealt with the first royal council of his reign. Some would even remark on how well he did his job, even though he had only been crowned the day before.

He was dividing his mind in half.

Half of him was focussed on the issues at hand. Border disputes with Archenland. Dwarf mining rights in the mountains. The problem of uniting Narnian and Telmarine systems and people.

And the other half was fixated on the girl he had left behind in his bedroom.

~#~

"M-m-morning, Su," yawned Peter, ever graceful as he slumped into the breakfast hall at about eleven am. "Where're the others?"

"Ed's with Glenstorm, training again, and Lucy skipped off to go to the Dancing Lawns with Trufflehunter and Trumpkin."

"What about Caspian?" he asked through a mouthful of bread.

Susan shuddered delicately at her brother's manners. "Royal council meeting."

"Oh... course..." Peter had an odd expression on his face: it was almost wistful.

"Peter? Are you all right?" Susan had seen his face.

"I'm fine, Su. Just feels a little odd, that's all."

Susan reached out to pat his arm.

"He'll be a good king - better than I ever was, at any rate." Peter's eyes stared out of the window.

His slightly sad words hung in the air for a moment. Susan felt a stab of guilt.

I'm in love with the person who's filled Peter's role... does that make me a traitor?

Her thoughts tormented her for the rest of breakfast.

~#~

It seemed to go on for hours. He'd known, of course he had, about the duties and responsibilities that being King entailed. And it wasn't that he wished to shirk his duties.

It was merely that he wanted to be somewhere else at that point.

~#~

Susan was outside when she remembered.

"Shit!" she exclaimed under her breath.

My underthings are still in Caspian's room. And I have a nasty feeling that the maid is coming round today.

She turned and pelted into the castle. If anyone found her underwear in Caspian's room, the game would be up.

And there would be all hell to pay.

Susan came to the end of the corridor, upon which lay Caspian's bedchamber. She looked both ways, then darted across to his door.

She snuck inside, and quickly retrieved her fallen clothes, briefly wondering at how they could have gotten so scattered.

She thought she'd made it clear as she stepped past the door, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Queen Susan," greeted Reepicheep, doffing his hat. "What brings you here?"

Susan went scarlet. "Reepicheep! Um! Hi! I was just - well, I was - "

The little mouse looked up at her - and what was in her hands.

"My lips, my lady," he said, bowing, "are sealed."

And then he swept - or as close to sweeping as a mouse could - down the corridor.

Susan sagged against the wall. She couldn't keep doing this.

~#~

As soon as the advisers had been dismissed, Caspian dropped the crown onto his throne. A huge smile spread across his face as he ran off.

Susan.

~#~

She felt his presence as she walked through the ground floor of the Telmarine castle. It was as if her body knew he was right there.

His low voice carried out of a dark alcove.

"Susan!"

"Not very kingly, is it? Hiding in dark co-" She started, walking towards him, before he placed a finger over his lips mischieviously.

"Come on," he whispered, a huge smile on his face. His hand caught hers, the spark immediately flaming at the contact, and he pulled her down the corridor and out the door.

"Caspian!" Susan exclaimed as he dragged her through the courtyard. "Someone'll see us!"

"No, they will not," he grinned, pulling them around the back of the stables.

"Caspian -" The young King cut her off, pressing his lips to hers quickly. Susan immediately shut up.

He pulled back, lights dancing in his chocolate-hued eyes. "Let us go, my queen."

Susan let him pull her into the stables, and into Destrier's stall.

If he wanted to kiss me this badly, why did he bother dragging us all the way out to the stables? Susan wondered, getting a flashback to the last time she'd been in that stall. Mmmm...

But Caspian had other ideas.

He leapt up onto Destrier's back with a practiced ease that made Susan go a little weak at the knees, though she would never admit it. He then leant down, and lifted her by her waist up onto the horse behind him.

Susan tried not to swoon.

My noble, loving, strong Telmarine.

He grinned at her again from behind his bangs. "What do you say to an expedition, my queen?" he asked, excitement clear through his accent.

"An expedition? Where to, might I ask?" she enquired archly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Ah, that would spoil the surprise, my fair queen."

"Very well," Susan replied, keeping to the play-formality, "I shall join you on this expedition of yours, your majesty, if that is what you wish."

Caspian smiled broadly. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my Queen."

And with that he turned and took hold of the reins. "I would advise you to hold on tight," he said, a smile easily audible in his voice.

Instinctually, Susan's arms wrapped around Caspian's waist.

"On, Destrier!" said the Telmarine to his faithful horse, gently kicking him into action.

Susan gasped a little as Destrier reared slightly, neighing.

"What if we are seen?" she asked in Caspian's ear.

"I do not think that should be a problem," replied the King.

Destrier galloped across the courtyard, sending up a clatter of hooves on the cobblestones. Susan's hair flew out behind them, as did Caspian's cloak.

They moved so fast that noone would have seen them... except for a blonde figure at the window.

They rode at high speed out of the castle and into the town. A few citizens looked up as their King and one of the Queens of Old blew past, but so fast that noone could tell who they were. They were just a boy, and a girl, on a horse, riding out to who knows where.

Caspian laughed in exhilaration as they pounded out of the town's outer limits. This was what he loved - to be free.

Susan felt his happiness through that odd, invisible yet tangible bond they shared. She felt his laughter through her chest, that was pressed up against his back, her arms tight around him. Every heartbeat of his was synchronised with hers.

They were the same.

Destrier galloped on, across the plains and into the woods. Caspian, unlike the rest of his race, did not fear the woods. He felt an affinity with them.

I am more Narnian than I am Telmarine, he thought. And it was true.

His appearance was of Telmarine origin, and he had the quick mind, in some ways, of a true King of Telmar. But his heart, his deepest nature was Narnian.

He was noble. He was honest. He was upstanding. He feared not the woods or the sea. He upheld a moral code in his actions. He was brave.

And he had faith.

The trees were moving once more, and they parted around them to allow Destrier's easy passage. The wind blew past them, tossing their hair about.

Susan held tight to Caspian as he urged his horse to gallop at top speed. But she did not feel any fear whatsoever.

With Caspian, she had never felt more secure.

~#~

Peter had seen them.

He was annoyed. He knew that Caspian fancied Susan, it had been clear from the start.

And now he'd ridden off with her.

Lucky that their relationship hasn't ever really had a chance to get off the ground. I mean, they are never alone together, he thought. It's not like they can have been courting.

Feeling somewhat comforted, Peter made a most uncharacteristic decision, and decided to leave it at that. Though he would have a word with both of them. He didn't want Caspian getting ideas.

He wouldn't... would he?

No. Peter was sure of it. If there was one thing that he knew about Caspian, it was that he was a gentleman.

Or he had better be.

~#~

They rode out of the forest about a half hour later, into a wide clearing at the base of a small hill. Caspian urged Destrier on, letting his horse canter up the shallow incline.

Caspian leapt lightly down, then gently lifted Susan off Destrier, cradling her in his arms.

"You can put me down now, you know," Susan pointed out.

"One moment," he said, then kissed her softly. He wanted to show her how much she was loved.

Caspian gently set Susan down on her feet. She looked out - then gasped.

They could see almost all the way to the sea, over the wide expanse of forest. The hill gently rolled down to meadowland all around, with the forest encroaching once again to protect them at the back. The sun shone through the trees and onto the open grass, making everything glow.

It was beautiful.

"It's perfect," she whispered.

"Not as perfect as you, my queen." A small smile quirked his lips as he took the saddlebags off Destrier's flank. He patted the horse's side, making it go and graze off under the trees.

Susan walked to a spot just out of the shade, and sat down. She leant back, luxuriating in the sun's rays.

"Oh Caspian, thank you!" she said.

"What for?" he asked as he came to sit beside her, placing the saddlebags beside them.

"For bringing me here." Susan leant across, catching his chin in her hand. "It's wonderful." She kissed him for a moment, cradling his tanned face in her pale fingers. Caspian leant into the kiss, bracing his hand against the grass to keep himself upright.

I have problems enough keeping upright when Susan is distracting me...

They kissed for a long moment, the sun casting shining rays over the pair of them. They shone.

Or maybe it was the effect they had on each other's hearts.

~#~

Edmund was feeling... somewhat discomfited. He had a feeling that something really wasn't right.

And Susan was nowhere to be found.

~#~

Finally, the pair pulled apart, needing to breathe.

Susan stroked his cheek with her thumb, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. His skin was warm, his hair soft. And he was hers.

"I love you," he said quietly, his hand cradling her face.

"Me too."

Susan let go of his face, and made as if to lean back against the grass. But Caspian stopped her.

"I brought a blanket." The boyish smile on his features was like the sun. "I did not think you would want to get your dress damp."

He leant across to the saddlebag and pulled out a tightly rolled blanket, which he proceeded to unfurl and lay out over the ground for Susan.

"My queen," he said, holding his hand out and bowing as if he were a servant. Susan let him pull her up, before she stepped onto the rug and sat down again.

"Thanks."

"Do not mention it."

Susan leant back, stretching out. Caspian lay beside her, his hair falling back from his sculpted face.

"I used to do this in England," commented Susan, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. "Lie back and watch the clouds."

"I would sit out on the topmost tower and look for pictures in them," admitted Caspian. "I would stay for hours up there."

"I used to imagine that they were people..."

"I would make up stories about the creatures and shapes I could see," laughed Caspian, before his voice darkened a little. "I would escape from being a Telmarine for a while."

Susan turned her face to look at him. She always forgot how deeply he had been scarred by his childhood.

"You never have to escape now, you hear me? You never have to be afraid or alone," she said, conviction ringing in every word.

"I know, my Susan." He traced her face. "I know."

They stared deep into each other's eyes, ice blue meeting chocolate brown. Then they both turned back to stare up at the sky.

"Look, there's a whale," exclaimed Susan, pointing at a cloud.

"A whale? Nay, that is a dragon," replied Caspian, grinning as he looked up at the clouds.

"A dragon? You need your eyes tested! It's a whale."

"It is a dragon, I am sure."

"It's a whale! Look!"

Caspian scooted over to her side, moving his face next to hers so he could see what she was pointing at.

"Look, there's the tail, and the head! It's a whale, I tell you."

"Fine, my queen. It is a whale." Caspian turned to look at her, the tip of his nose almost brushing her cheek.

"See, you're learning fast." Susan was smug. With that smile on her face, she was the spit of her youngest sibling.

"Learning what, my lady?" asked Caspian, still only an inch from her.

"That I'm always right." She grinned widely.

Caspian acted offended. "I am afraid that I cannot stand for that. I shall have to teach you a lesson, my lady."

"Teach me a lesson?" Susan raised her eyebrows at him.

"Indeed." A wicked grin playing around his mouth, Caspian braced his arm on Susan's other side. He leant up, hovering over the length of her body.

"I think I possibly should be taught that lesson," whispered the Gentle Queen.

"So do I," murmured Caspian. He tilted his head towards hers, then kissed her, gently parting her lips.

It was becoming a familiar scene to that hypothetical observer (well, voyeur, considering what Caspian and Susan had been getting up to). Susan's arms wrapped tight around Caspian. Caspian's hand on Susan's waist. Rather quickened breathing.

Susan, with her hand flat on the small of her love's back, slipped one thumb under the hem of his shirt. He shivered a little at the light contact of her skin on his.

I think her power over me grows greater each day, thought a slightly dazed Caspian, before he pulled back.

"I think, my lady," he said, his speech pulled up in odd places by his breathing, "that you have been sufficiently instructed."

"My turn to teach you, then," smiled Susan, leaning up and pushing him onto his back. Caspian's hands steadied her as she rolled over him.

She kissed his chin, then under his ear, and then his cheek. He moaned slightly.

"All right, all right," she chuckled, pressing her lips to his.

They kissed for a long moment, long enough to leave both of them as quivering heaps on the floor. When they finally pulled apart, Caspian held Susan so that she was half laying on his chest, one palm flat against his stomach. His arms tightened around her.

"Mi reina," he sighed happily.

They lay in the brilliant sunshine, no longer two separate entities. They were the same - always had been the same. Always would be.

"Cut here," whispered Susan. "Here's where I could stay forever."


	10. This Is The Best Day Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh looky here more smut that I wrote while angry at the world and just before going to Russia
> 
> still retro postin'

Susan stretched out her legs, her skirt spreading around her. The sun had risen even further in the sky by now.

"I missed this, you know," she said, leaning back. "The sun."

Caspian looked confused. "Does the sun not shine in England?" he asked, propping himself up to look at her.

Susan laughed; he really was adorable when he was all confused-looking. "Well, yes, it does, but it's nothing like it is here."

"Tell me about England," he said softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

"What do you want me to tell you?" she asked, amused.

"Anything," he breathed, his eyes on hers.

"All right." Susan thought. "Well... the seasons are very different. And it rains a lot. An awful lot. Even in the summer." She laughed, thinking of businessmen with umbrellas and women queueing, clad in mackintoshes. "And then the autumn... it's the best time of the year. Lucy loves spring and summer, the boys love winter, but it's autumn that I love. All the leaves turn different colours and fall from the trees... you'd think it'd be bleak, but it's not. It's beautiful."

Caspian was rapt, his eyes never leaving her face as she spoke.

"It doesn't look like here, either. The towns are very different - you can't imagine how different. They're all smoky and noisy... and the buildings are far taller - they call the tall ones sky scrapers. But they're mainly in America, not in England."

"What is America?" asked Caspian, seeking to understand.

"It's another country, across the sea from England. It's huge, about the size of all of Narnia."

Caspian nodded. "I see... is America an ally of England?"

"Yes, now..." Susan saw the look of confusion reappear on his face. "Oh, I'll give you the history lesson another day. It'll take far too long, and besides, Ed's the one that's really good at history."

"What lessons do you like then, my Queen?"

"Languages... and biology, too." She registered Caspian's raised eyebrow. "Ah, I suppose you'd call it physic, or medicine."

"Yes... I never liked those lessons." He grimaced slightly. "But on with your tale, my Queen." His smile was small, but encouraging.

"Um... oh yes. Well, people travel around differently in England. Some people still use horses, but it's mainly buses and trains in London, and cars. Oh, and bikes."

Caspian was completely bemused. "What are - "

"Oh, sorry. They're all self propelled... carriages... I suppose..." She screwed up her face, trying to think of a way to explain to a boy who had no comprehension of the combustion engine, or electricity. "Trains run on rails and are powered by burning coal, which heats water into steam, which basically turns the wheels."

Caspian nodded, slowly. "I think I understand. And cars and buses work in the same manner?"

"Not exactly... they don't have rails... I'm not entire sure how they work, to be honest."

Caspian laughed. "And - bikes?" he enquired, the unfamiliar word out of place in his foreign accent.

"Two wheels, and you pedal, which turns the wheels. You sit on a little seat and hold onto a bar at the front."

"That sounds lethal, my queen!"

"When it's Ed on it, it is," Susan replied darkly. "The number of scrapes I've had to clean up for him after he's fallen off it because he was going too fast doesn't even bear thinking about."

Caspian laughed again. That sounded exactly like Edmund. "So I should not consider bringing bikes into Narnia?"

"Unless you want death and destruction, no. Also, can you see Glenstorm trying to pedal a two wheeled vehicle?"

"I admit, I cannot." Caspian bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the thought. "But tell me more."

"The clothes are very different," she said. "Nothing like here."

"Nothing at all?"

"Caspian, the last time people wore dresses like this, it was about three and a half hundred years ago. And men don't wear doublets either."

"What do people wear, then?"

"Men wear trousers that come down to their ankles, but they're not tight like the ones you wear." Susan let her eyes drop for a split second. Caspian grinned. "And then they wear button up shirts with jumpers, in general. But the shirts are closer fitting than yours." She reached out to the collar of his. "And they do up higher."

"What do you wear in England?" A mischievous smile crept across his face.

"Mainly skirts with a blouse. But the skirts are much shorter than this." She flicked her long skirt.

Caspian raised one eyebrow. "How much shorter... my lady?"

Susan smirked. "Most of my skirt just about touch my knees."

Caspian's eyes bugged out of his head. "That cannot be proper."

"Whyever not?" asked Susan archly, then reached down to the hem of her dress. "It's only as if this dress were -" she flipped up the bottom of her dress, folding it back over her knees, "this long."

It looked as if the young King's eyes might fall out.

"What?" she asked, laughing at his expression. "It's not like you haven't seen it before."

"Not in the context," he said, in a slightly choked voice.

Susan reached down to unfold the material. "If it bothers you - "

But he caught her hand, smiling guiltily. "It does not bother me."

"Good. I was getting too hot anyway."

"Though, I do not know how any man in England can concentrate if you walk around in a skirt that length," he said cheekily.

"Oh, don't be silly. I prefer Narnian dresses anyway. Except for the corsets." She shuddered.

Caspian looked away. "You do not - in England?" He looked up at her quickly.

Susan laughed for a long time, before looking right at him. "You want to talk about my underwear, Caspian?"

"I - "

Possibly.

Susan laughed at his expression. "I'll take that as a yes."

Caspian blushed beneath his tan.

Susan leant up and over Caspian, her hair falling either side of her face, tickling his cheeks. He breathed in faster than he'd like to admit as she moved so that she was kneeling with one leg either side of him.

She bent her head to speak in his ear. Her breath tickled his neck.

"In England, I don't wear a corset. I wear modern underthings..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Which are a lot easier to undo."

If Caspian had been in a state of sanity before, he certainly wasn't now. His heart had picked up, all because of the images now running through his head.

Susan pulled back, smirking at his floored expression. "You wanted to know."

Caspian did not reply, but simply grabbed her, pulling her face down towards his. Susan registered how dark his eyes had gone.

His lips met hers hard and fast, knocking the breath from her. She found herself suddenly against his body, stretched out like a cat.

His hands moved, one to her waist, and one onto her now exposed lower thigh. Susan, always with a motive to get at him properly, slid her hands under his shirt, untucking it. Her fingers curled, digging into his chest.

Caspian groaned slightly, his hand sliding further up her leg. He was powerless to resist her.

Susan shivered lightly as his hand made its way up the outside of her thigh. She knew where he was at with his kiss. Shifting slightly on top of him, she felt it too.

He gasped at her movement, eyes shutting. Susan immediately did it again, and was rewarded with a stilted moan, his hand clenching against her leg.

"Susan - " he said against her lips, his voice low and rough.

She kept up her movement, hearing his breath speed up, even as hers did too. Caspian's hand slid slowly around to the inside of her thigh, trailing upwards. Susan gasped, pulling back and stopping in her motion as his hand pushed her underclothes to one side.

Caspian smiled almost wolfishly for a moment.

Susan couldn't speak to articulate what she wanted to say - if indeed she could articulate even thought. So she fixed her eyes pleadingly on him.

The grin on his face widened.

And then he pushed his fingertip up, causing Susan to moan.

Pay back time.

~#~

Lucy was in an odd mood, Peter had decided. She was sort of jumpy, and she had that smug look on her face that she got whenever she turned out to be right about something.

But when pressed, she refused to say anything.

Weird.

~#~

The sound that Susan made as she stiffened in his arms was unlike anything he'd ever heard from her lips before. Part scream, part gasp, with a decent slosh of moan thrown in there too.

Her eyes snapped open with her mouth, before she went completely slack.

For once, she is quiet. Curious.

Caspian removed his hand as Susan curled against his chest, her shoulders rapidly rising and falling as she breathed heavily. Her eyes were so heavily lidded that they were almost completely shut.

Her eyes opened, and a small smile spread across her face.

He lifted his hand up to his face, ostensibly examining it. Feeling rather wicked already, Caspian locked eyes with Susan - and then he licked his finger, very deliberately. And then he did it to the next.

Her mouth popped open. Who was this new Caspian she had unlocked over the past few days?

His grin widened. She was practically drooling.

"What do you do to me?" she asked, wonderingly. "What do yo do?"

~#~

Susan was massively content where she was. Lying next to the man she loved in the brilliant Narnian sunshine, everything appeared to be right with the world.

"It's awfully hot," she commented, wriggling slightly in her thick dress.

Caspian did not say anything, but merely raised one eyebrow cheekily.

"Think again, Caspian."

He tried not to look disappointed.

Susan wriggled again. She was definitely too hot.

"Bingo!" she exclaimed, reaching to the skirt of her dress. Caspian's eyes widened.

"Put your eyes back in your head, you," she laughed, as she yanked up her skirt. Finding the band of her petticoat, she attempted to get it off, with little success.

"Let me help," he said quietly. Susan rolled over obligingly. She tried not to shiver as he lifted the skirt up at the back, and then undid the button of the petticoat. Pressing one kiss to her lower back, he slowly slid the heavy lace off her, then pulled her skirt back to where it shold have been.

When Susan looked up at him, the tenderness on his face struck her dumb.

"I love you, you know."

"I know. And I love you." His voice was serious, his accent thickening as she had grown used to.

A moment of silence passed. They just lay there, next to each other under the bright sunshine. Then Caspian shifted.

"Is it all right if I - " he gestured at his shirt. He was clearly too hot as well, or claiming to be, at least.

"Go ahead," said Susan quickly, prompting a grin from Caspian.

He sat up, and reached for the first button - only to find Susan's pale fingers already undoing it. She looked up at him with a small smile on her face. Once she had got the first three undone, he carefully stopped her hands and tugged the garment off over his head.

Smiling slightly, Caspian reached into the saddlebag. "I brought you something, my queen."

"What?"

"I remembered you saying how much you liked chocolate..." He held out a small cake to her, lying back down.

"But you can't get - "

"Anything is possible for my queen," he said simply.

Susan took a bite of the confection. "Uuuuuuh. This is so good!" She took another. "Thank you!" she said through a mouthful of cake.

It took her only a minute to finish the small cake, crumbs going all over Caspian's bare chest. "Thank you!" she exclaimed again. She really did love chocolate, and Narnians didn't really go in for it much. "You're obviously a keeper," she joked.

Caspian smiled at her.

"Oh!" she clapped her hand to her mouth. "I never offered you any! I'm sorry!"

His expression changed slightly. "I know another way for me to sample that cake..." He said softly, leaning towards her. Susan shut her eyes as he kissed her.

"Hmm... I think I can see why you like chocolate," he murmured, pulling back. He looked down at himself, and was about to brush all the crumbs away, when Susan caught his hand.

"Waste not, want not," she grinned mischieviously - then licked at the crumbs.

Caspian moaned at the back of this throat. Taking this as a sign to continue, Susan proceeded to lick all over his muscled chest and stomach, feeling him tense underneath her.

Without warning, Caspian flipped them over, pressing his mouth to Susan's. Her hand fisted in his hair, and the other travelled south, already hunting for the laces of his leggings.

He pulled back, looking right at her, a question in his dark eyes.

Susan didn't reply. She simply arched herself up into him.

Caspian was done for after that.

He began to kiss her again, while sliding his hands slowly up her legs, taking her skirt with them. Reaching up, he tugged her waistband away from her skin, pulling her panties down. Susan wriggled to help divest herself of the troublesome - in her mind, at least - garment. Her hands swiftly yanked at his trousers until they were both on the same page.

Caspian looked deep into her eyes, then kissed her on the lips briefly. He gently pushed her legs apart with his own, then softly pushed forward.

He held himself carefully as he moved slowly, not wanting to squash her into the unforgiving ground. He was very gentle, wanting to show her how much she was loved.

But Susan had other ideas. She wanted to feel him pressing her into the ground, she wanted every single bit of him.

"Caspian," she gasped in his ear, the sound sending shivers down his spine, "Fuck me."

He looked momentarily stunned, either by her unusual use of a swear word, or by her actual request. He stopped moving.

"Fuck me, Caspian," she said again, her voice hitching.

I am powerless to resist.

The young King pressed his lips to his lover's hotly, his tongue slipping inside her mouth instantly. Susan moaned, then grabbed him by his hips, pulling him onto and into her. His entire weight was suddenly pushing her down.

I like this kind of crushing.

Caspian's mouth mimicked his quick action, muffling the noises spilling out of both of their lips. Susan moaned an indistinct plea against him.

He moved his mouth down to her neck, burying his face in her shoulder. Gripping her calf, he pushed her leg up a little. As if on instinct, Susan arched up against him off her bent leg, causing them both to moan at the angle.

His breath was warm in her ear as he panted indeterminate words of love in both his language and hers. Her nails scraped down his back, surely leaving marks - the sensation shot right through Caspian.

"Te adoro," he said thickly, before biting at her neck. Susan moaned loudly, then wrapped her other leg around his waist, trying to pull him deeper. "Ple-" her voice cut off into another moaning sigh as Caspian once again kissed her passionately, his hands moving to the front of her dress, sliding underneath a gap in the bodice and upwards.

"Oh - Caspian - uhh-" The sound of her voice was driving him crazy, on top of the feeling of her hands pulling him back and forth even deeper.

"Tell me what you want, carino," he said thickly.

"More, I - you - " Susan's eyes shut. She hadn't known she could love him so much.

"Soy solo tua," he exclaimed, trying to keep up the fast pace she had wanted, always trying to do what she wanted. His hands caressed her under her dress.

Caspian's face was back to its serious set watching his Queen, the only thing that he could focus his heated mind on, the only thing that mattered as he drew her closer and closer to their petite morte, the little death that underpinned all life. The blanket was ruched up, not doing its job at all as their legs tangled faster and faster, getting covered in grass and dirt.

And then Susan screamed in total abandon, seeing stars and fireworks and Caspian's face all mixed in one. Back arching, she tried to pull him closer as she flew.

"Come with me, Caspian," she cried, the sound hitting every nerve in his body. And he fell apart.

"I am only ever yours - " he tried to say before he shouted something incomprehensible.

When speech and sight returned, he folded her up in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"My Susan."

"My Caspian."

~#~

Susan rested her head against his shoulder blade as they rode home.

"This is the best day ever," she breathed.


	11. This Ain't A Scene, It's A Goddamn Arms Race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh yay drama and fightin'
> 
> we like some fightin'
> 
> retro posting continues

Leaning peacefully against Caspian's shoulder as they rode at a gentle lick through the forest, Susan spoke up.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"For everything," she replied simply.

Caspian reached down to clasp her hand in his, then held their intertwined fingers up. A small smile crossed his tanned face.

I am not alone.

Susan smiled too, looking at the contrast between their hands. Hers, pale and delicate, dwarfed by Caspian's coffee-skinned, long fingers.

"Oh!"

"What is it, my Susan?" asked Caspian, concerned.

"My bracelet - I must have lost it," she explained.

"Would you like to search for it in the meadow?"

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. It's so small, we'd never find it anyway."

~#~

Edmund, as was his wont in times of deep personal stress, was taking out his frustration in the training yard. If 'taking out his frustration' actually meant 'smashing the stuffing out of the practice dummies like they'd done him an insurmountable wrong'.

He swung his sword in a circle, ripping one asunder, then cleanly slicing off the head of the next. Pivoting on the spot, he chopped its neighbour in half, before undercutting two at the same time with his sword and long dagger. He then leapt into the air and cut the final dummy off at its knees.

Breathing heavily, he surveyed the destruction around him. Half a dozen six foot tall dummies lay in varying sized chunks around him.

"And that, my friends," he said to himself, sheathing his sword, "is why I'm the best swordsman in Narnia."

Suddenly bored, he walked out of the yard, pausing only to boot a decapitated wooden head out of his way.

Where are you, Susan?

~#~

Peter's mood was swiftly turning black. He'd tolerated Caspian riding off with his sister. But now, over four hours later, he couldn't any longer. He'd have ridden off after them, if he'd had any idea where they'd gone.

He didn't even want to think about what they were doing.

Susan, with the interloper who'd taken his throne? It couldn't be!

He paced back and forth, up and down the castle, his mood ever worsening. He stomped through the corridors, a dark scowl on his face.

Suddenly, as if by some divine - or not - action, Peter looked up from his feet.

He was outside Caspian's door.

It wouldn't hurt... just to check...

Slowly, he looked around. A strange chill passed over him as he pushed open the door.

The sheets were messy, tumbled about all over the bed. One pillow was on the floor. Peter felt a twitch of something at that.

Maybe he's just a restless sleeper, he thought, more for his own benefit.

He took another step inside - and stepped on a piece of clothing. Caspian's shirt that he'd been wearing the day before.

He looked down. There was a trail of Caspian's clothing leading up to the bed.

The chill spread incrementally.

Or maybe he had just been in a rush to fall asleep, tugging off his clothes as Peter himself did when he was desperate to get into bed at the end of a long day.

Discomfited, Peter took another step into the room. Nothing else seemed amiss... other than a curious scent in the air. One that he recognised, on some basic level.

Peter's shoulders felt as if they were being held down under some great weight. But it did not seem that anything was actual evidence.

Ready to leave, Peter made to turn around - before a flash of something shiny in the sheets caught his eye as the sun came out from behind a cloud.

Feeling a deep foreboding in his veins, Peter leant down to the bed - smelling again that strange musk; it was heavier around the sheets. He reached out, already in his heart knowing what it was.

He held it in his hand, barely able to look at it.

What was Susan's sapphire bracelet doing in Caspian's room, in Caspian's bed?

He tried to think of some excuse, anything but the worst case scenario that was already coming to life in his head. Maybe Susan came in here to find Caspian, and dropped it... but why would she be looking for him? Or Caspian found it and held onto it... but why would he do that?

Peter's mind swirled into ever darkening spirals, knotting and tangling with each new and more awful possibility. Not Susan - with him - no - it can't be - traitor -

There was one way to solve this, one way to set his mind at rest. This all had to be a mixup; there was no way Susan would ever betray him like this - no way Caspian would dare -

The Magnificent King spun around, leaping out of the door, barely registering the bang it made as it slammed back against the stone wall. He bounded down the corridor like a man possessed.

Her room is so close to his - why? WHY? No, it can't be -

Peter wrenched open the door.

And his entire body turned to ice as a deathly chill filled every part of him.

Susan's bed had not been slept in.

Barely able to move, Peter stared down at the delicate silver bracelet in his hand. Susan - his own sister - had betrayed him. For that Telmarine.

The ice in his veins began to burn.

Traitor.

Traitor.

Traitor.

The word rose to a repeated, wailing chant inside his head. There was no reason in him now, none at all.

He tore back to Caspian's room.

He yanked at the sheets, threw them aside - and then he had it. The proof of Susan's betrayal, and Caspian's treason.

A small stain on the sheets - and a little silk undergarment marked with two letters.

S. P.

~#~

It was Destrier who sensed it first, with that uncanny knack that the best horses have. The gathering storm.

"Destrier?" exclaimed Caspian as the horse shied slightly.

Ten minutes later, the heavens opened on them. They hadn't even seen the clouds gathering above their heads as they rode through the forest.

The rain bounced off the trees and onto them, beginning to lightly dampen their hair. Caspian drove Destrier on faster, laughing. Susan giggled in a manner most unlike her usual calm and collected self - but she rarely was when she was with Caspian.

Above them, the sky rumbled.

Susan suddenly stopped giggling. She counted carefully.

A flash of lightning lit up the now darkened sky.

"Caspian, how far to the edge of the woods are we?"

"Why?"

"Because that thunderstorm is only about four miles away and it's gaining on us."

Caspian urged Destrier on. He had no desire to be caught under a tree in a thunderstorm.

They broke through the trees just as another flash of lighting set the sky alight. The rain was pelting down on them as they galloped at top whack across the Telmarine plains.

Susan held tight onto Caspian as he gripped the reins.

"Susan, do not let go," he said quickly.

"What - why - "

But she got her answer when Destrier leaped over a small stream, tipping them back a little. Susan shrieked, and clutched Caspian.

"Scared, my queen?" he asked, looking over his shoulder once they were galloping again.

Susan flipped her wet hair out of her eyes. "You're a fool."

Caspian grinned. "Yes, my queen. But I am a fool for you."

They stopped about a mile further on, apropos of nothing. He jumped off the horse, and whipped off his cloak.

"Caspian, what are you doing - this is hardly the time for - "

He grinned again, then offered the cloak up to her, settling it on her shoulders.

"Oh."

He smirked as he remounted Destrier. "Getting ideas, my queen?"

"Oh, shut up."

Caspian urged Destrier into action again. "You are insatiable, my queen."

"Only because you made me that way," she said back sweetly. "Now ride the damn horse."

"As you wish."

~#~

Peter had been standing at the window that overlooked the courtyard for two hours. No one dared approach him, thanks to the black fury that roiled off him like clouds in the thunderstorm that had just passed.

Then he saw the gleaming flanks of Destrier canter into the courtyard - and Susan, her arms wrapped all the way around Caspian's waist.

Peter stood, stony faced, as Caspian lithely jumped down off the horse, and then placed his hands on Susan's waist to lift her down. A stable boy came up to them, and spoke quickly, gesturing to the horse. Caspian looked as if he was about to refuse the small boy, but then Susan leant up to speak in his ear, and he nodded, smiling at the young boy, who led Destrier away.

Seeing Caspian tuck a strand of Susan's wet hair behind her ear, Peter's blood boiled. He turned away from the window, and ran down the stairs two at a time. He leapt out from the bottom step, and started to accelerate down the corridor that came out onto the courtyard.

They'd dismounted from the horse now - and then he saw Susan, her dress damp, with the hem covered in mud. She looked up at Caspian - who adjusted a cloak around her, his hands gently settling it on her shoulders. His cloak, with his crest of Telmar and Narnia on the fastening.

"You Telmarine bastard!"

Peter's fist hit Caspian square on the nose, knocking him backwards. Momentarily stunned, he reeled back, placing a hand to his face. His fingers came back bloody. He stared at the crimson all over his hand, unable to believe that Peter had actually had the brass to hit him, the King of Narnia.

And then again, he could very well believe it.

"If I have offended, Peter, then I apologize - "

Peter didn't listen. He came at Caspian again, fist swinging towards his head. Ready this time, the Telmarine ducked.

"Hit him, Caspian!" yelled Edmund.

Caspian shook his head. He wouldn't hit him. He had no desire to solve conflicts with nobles and royals the way his uncle had.

Peter, it appeared, had no such qualms. Undeterred by Caspian's dodge, he sunk his fist into the young King's stomach, making him bend double. And he kept coming. Caspian had no choice but to hit him, for self-defence's sake.

Susan, silent with fear, could only watch as he pulled back his arm, and thwacked Peter around the side of the head hard enough to send him reeling sideways, but not hard enough to cause any huge injury.

Slightly stunned by the blow, Peter swung his fist aimlessly - and hit Caspian in the shoulder. Hard. So Caspian jabbed his fist sharply under Peter's ribs, winding him.

Peter, now robbed of breath and in a towering fury, staggered backwards. Caspian stood in a fighting stance, ready to be on the defensive, not attacking. And that only made Peter angrier.

Straightening up, he rushed at Caspian and dealt him a roundhouse blow that knocked the young King to the floor. He groaned, his muscles going limp.

"Pete, what the HELL are you doing?" shouted Edmund, trying to get over to break up the fight. But Peter knocked him out of his way, going for Caspian again.

"He's fucking our sister, the filthy Telmarine!"

Edmund said nothing.

And his silence spoke volumes to Peter. "You knew! You knew that bastard was sleeping with Susan!"

"It's my choice, Peter," spat Susan, suddenly angry. "Not that it's any of your business!"

Peter's lip curled. "You traitor."

Caspian - who'd managed to get himself back up onto his feet during the Pevensie's discussion (if you could call it that) - suddenly got in Peter's face.

"That is no way to speak to a lady!" he said angrily, sounding more Telmarine than ever.

"She's hardly a lady, after what she's done with - " But Peter's words were cut off by a set of knuckles smashing into his jaw like a train. He nearly fell to the floor, but somehow remained on his feet. He spat out a mouthful of blood onto the cobbles, then looked with hate-filled eyes at Caspian.

"You scum," he hissed, wiping his mouth.

"Never," snarled Caspian, "call Susan that ever again - or I will make you pay." His fist was drawn up, ready to hit Peter again.

"Go on then, Telmarine," said Peter, his voice making it sound like an insult. "Protect her honour - oh wait. You've already desecrated it!"

That was too much for Caspian. Letting out an incomprehensible shout, he rushed at Peter, and slammed one fist after another into him, snapping his chin up and then knocking him over.

"I - love - Susan," bit out Caspian, his accent thickening to darkest Telmarine as he loomed above Peter.

"Oh, sure you do," mocked Peter. "So one night with her in your bed, and suddenly it's love!"

Caspian's face gave him away.

"Oh, no," whispered Peter. "Oh, no. No. No."

"I am sorry - but I love her!" pleaded Caspian.

Peter didn't listen, leaping to his feet and grabbing Caspian by the collar of his shirt. "How many times?"

"Peter, stop!" shouted Susan.

"How many times?" he asked again, his fingers tightening on the white cloth.

"PETE! STOP IT!"

"HOW MANY TIMES?" Peter roared.

But he knew, deep in his heart. It had been every time that Susan had disappeared off. Maybe even before they got to this goddamn castle.

He'd found them, hadn't he? When he'd been too drunk to notice, he'd found them with their hands up each others' clothes. And then Susan had disappeared.

He felt sick.

"Peter. I meant no dishonour on any part. I would have - "

"Keep the fuck away from my sister!" Peter yelled at the top of his voice, before slamming his fist into Caspian's face.

Caspian fought back, heedless of the screams and shouts behind him. He kicked at Peter, sending him backwards. But the Magnificent King was tenacious. He ran at Caspian, and laid four blows in quick succession on him. Caspian attempted to pull him off, landing two solid punches on him, one which he was sure had broken Peter's nose, but it was to no avail. Peter was like a demon.

"You fucking Telmarine bastard," he screamed, then slammed his knuckles into Caspian's windpipe. Unable to breathe, he clutched at his throat, and lashed out with one leg at Peter. Peter's leg crumpled underneath him - but not before he landed one more hit on Caspian's stomach.

Caspian fell heavily backwards. He hit the ground hard - his head snapped upwards as it ricocheted off the cobbles.

The new king of Narnia lay out cold in the middle of the rain-drenched courtyard, covered in his own blood.

"Caspian!" screamed Susan, running towards him.

Peter, who was dragging himself up, spat out more blood. He looked like he was about to try to get over to Susan, but he staggered as he stood up. Caspian had done a good job with that last kick.

"You- " He stopped, and spat out what looked like a tooth. Edmund got over to him before he could stand up again.

"Pete, shut up right now. You've done enough damage," he said in a quiet but furious voice. "If you don't get out of here, I'll punch you myself."

Peter looked angrier than ever, before he read the expression on Ed's face. It was set unlike he'd seen it since the time of Jadis. He looked - disappointed. And ashamed.

Peter let Edmund drape his arm over his shoulders and support him so that he could half limp out of the courtyard. A small trickle of blood dripped down his temple onto his younger brother's shoulder.

Peter Pevensie. Why do you have to spoil everything?

Susan had skidded to her knees by Caspian's side, grabbing his wrist to check his pulse. It was slightly erratic and fast, but it was a pulse. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, even though he was unconscious - and there was a bloom of crimson staining his white shirt.

Horrified, Susan leant over to inspect the damage - and nearly blanched. Peter had somehow ripped Caspian's shirt, and underneath the rip was a livid cut, about two inches long, and half an inch wide. It was bleeding, but luckily it didn't look deep.

It was his head she was worried about. His nose was bleeding, as well as his lip and a couple of small lacerations on his temples. And he'd hit it so hard on the cobbles!

Susan held back a sob as she did what she'd been taught by the nurses at school. She tipped Caspian's head to one side, opening his mouth to check for obstructions. His breathing was still coming very quickly, and it seemed to catch in his throat each time.

"Caspian? Caspian, can you hear me?" she asked desperately.

But he didn't reply. His face was very pale underneath his tan and the smeared blood.

Susan quickly tried to make an assessment of his overall state. His legs appeared fine, as did his arms and hands, except for some splits in the skin of his knuckles, obviously from punching Peter. Other than the cut on his ribs, and some already forming bruises, his torso seemed fine. She put her ear against his heart. It was starting to become more regular in its beats, but was still beating faster than normal.

What if he's broken his neck? Or what if he's in a coma? It'll all be because of me!

Susan moved to kneel at his head, carefully touching the sides of his neck. It didn't feel broken, but what did she know? She was a seventeen year old girl with no medical training, an entire world away from the specialist medical care she knew about.

"Caspian?"

He didn't reply, but his hand twitched. That was good, it meant his spinal cord hadn't been snapped.

Gently, very gently, Susan cradled Caspian's head in her arms, then let it rest in her lap. She smoothed the hair off his forehead - his skin was clammy with cold. His mahogany hair was black, soaked by the rain. She ran her fingers through it to try and soothe him in some way - and her stomach knotted. There was blood in his hair as well, staining her fingers a light red.

She softly probed his skull with her finger tips, checking for another wound. She found nothing major, but he was going to have an almighty lump on the back of his head. She brought her fingers away from it, and they came back with a tiny spot of blood. The place where he'd hit his head was only bleeding a little, and she ripped a strip of material off her petticoat to to staunch the flow. After a minute, it stopped.

But why wasn't he waking up? And why was his breathing still so quick?

Susan placed her hand on the ground to steady herself as she shifted slightly, still cradling his head in her lap. And then, with a horrible lurch in her deepest insides, she realised she'd put her hand in something warm and sticky.

Caspian was lying in a pool of his own blood, that was seeping out from under him at an increasing rate.

Susan stared at it for a second, unable to move, before some unknown reflex kicked in.

"SOMEONE! HELP!" she shouted at the top of her voice. "COME QUICKLY!"

Her voice echoed off the walls of the courtyard. Would nobody come?

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!" she practically howled as she leant over her Caspian's bloody, limp body.

"Someone," she whispered. "Please."


	12. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that time when it turned out I had an injured/vulnerable men kink
> 
> fun fact: a friend of mine marvelled at my ability to turn anything into a sex scene after reading this chapter
> 
> my life is great
> 
> retro posting still continues

"Please don't leave me, don't leave me, please don't leave me," Susan chanted, stroking his face with her shaking hands. The rain was still pouring down, dripping off her face along with her tears.

Caspian still wasn't waking up. His breathing had picked up further, and there was a slight rattle to each breath. His face was even paler.

Wasn't anyone coming to help?

"Stay with me, Caspian, stay with me," she sobbed.

"Queen Susan?" shouted a voice, accompanied by the sound of running footsteps.

She looked up, and saw a young faun sprinting towards her. "Please, help me!"

"King Caspian - " exclaimed the faun as he got to his ruler's bloody body. "What happened, your majesty?"

"A punchup that got out of hand - he got knocked out, and he isn't waking up!" she almost wailed. "And he's bleeding really badly from his back, but I don't know why!"

The faun nodded, then put two fingers to his lips and whistled, piercingly, three short notes. Another faun came running out of the castle over to the first. He bowed to Susan, then his mouth dropped open at the sight of the unconscious king of Narnia and Telmar.

The first faun spoke urgently to the second. "Simon, run and fetch a healer - Mairis' daughter would be best - and quick!"

"Yes, David," answered the faun, immediately running off into the castle.

"My queen, we're going to have to try to move him so that the healer can see what's wrong with his back," said David quietly.

Susan nodded, stroking Caspian's hair off his face reflexively.

The faun knelt down beside his king, and carefully tried to turn him onto his side.

A strangled sound came out of his mouth that cut at both the faun and the queen. Susan cradled his head, whispering soothingly in his ear, in the vague hope that he could hear.

"I think we'd best wait, on second thoughts."

Susan bit her lip so hard she could taste rust. She couldn't trust her voice, so she only nodded.

The clatter of wooden soled shoes on the cobbles announced the healer's arrival, along with Simon the faun, who was carrying a stretcher. The healer was a statuesque woman with long blonde braids who had something of the fey about her.

"My queen," she said deferentially, before kneeling down on the ground. "This will probably hurt him, but we need to get him out of here." She turned Caspian over, and gestured to the two fauns. They picked him up, causing a low, ragged moan, and laid him on the stretcher.

Caspian's face was twisted in pain, and his hands had fisted into balls by his sides.

"Shh, Caspian, it's okay, we're going to make it better," soothed Susan , trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

"Get him inside!" ordered the healer. The two fauns instantly picked up the stretcher, and began ferrying their King inside. Susan ran after them.

She had never seen someone be stretchered UP a set of stairs, but there was a first time for everything. The fauns sprinted up the first staircase and along the wide main corridor on the first floor.

"Here!" cried Susan, pointing at her own door, the first room with a bed they had come to. The fauns took the order instantly, carrying him in and laying him carefully on top of the pristine sheets.

The healer swept in, then bent over her king's limp form.

"We need to turn him over," she said quickly.

The two fauns instantly obeyed, gently rolling their young king onto his front.

Susan bit back a scream. The entire back of Caspian's shirt was soaked in crimson.

The healer went pale, but nevertheless bent down to push the ruined garment up.

It was the wound on his back. It had split open, all the way up between his shoulders.

"The wound's filled with dirt. Simon, get me a jug of hot water - and I mean hot," the healer ordered.

Caspian's face was twisted in pain, sweat beading his tawny skin. His cheek was smashed up against the sheets.

"He's burning up," she muttered.

Simon ran back into the room, proferring a large jug of steaming water. The healer pulled a cloth from her belt, and dipped it into the water. "This is going to hurt him," she said warningly, before pressing the wet material to the wound.

Caspian hissed, eyes clenching tighter shut. Susan bit her lip, and reached out to grasp his hand. His long fingers clenched around hers so hard it hurt.

Oh, god, please let him be all right. Aslan, I call upon you. Please. Please.

She held his hand as if she would never let it go as the healer tried to get all the dirt out of the massive gash on his back. Susan pushed the hair off his hot forehead, gently stroking his cheek.

"It's okay, Caspian, it's okay," she whispered.

He groaned incomprehensibly under his breath.

She stared at his fevered face, only aware of the pressure of his fingers on hers and the sound of his breathing.

Please be okay, she begged inside her head.

There was a wet slap as the cloth hit the bottom of the jug. The sound brought Susan back to the present.

She looked down at his back - and blanched. He was bleeding more than ever, the sheets sticky all around him.

"I can't stitch it," said the healer frantically, "it's too big, and it's infected."

Caspian's breath was coming much faster now. His face was now ochre-coloured, his entire body covered in a sheen of moisture.

"What - what can we do?" stammered Susan, trying not to cry. Caspian needed her.

"I can try a salve," replied the healer, digging into her belt pouch and producing a small phial. She emptied the contents all over the wound, spreading it to the edges.

Caspian's eyelids fluttered.

"Sss-"

"Caspian?" she exclaimed.

"Ssss-u-saan," he moaned.

"I'm here Caspian, I'm right here," she whispered, gripping his hand tighter. "I'm right here."

He moaned again, then went silent. His chest was rising faster than ever. Susan felt his pulse, hardly daring to.

His heart was not so much beating as fluttering.

"Queen Susan, hold this to his back - hard," stressed the healer, holding out a new cloth.

Susan took the material and pressed it firmly against the wound, trying not to wince as Caspian groaned in pain.

"Don't you dare leave me," she whispered. "I'm not losing you."

His eyes flickered open. " Susan - " he gasped. "My Susan -"

Tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, I'm here," she whispered frantically.

He struggled to keep his eyes open. "Susan - I love you - "

"I love you too, you're going to be fine," she said fervently.

"Su-san -" But his eyes shut again, his fingers limpening.

"We're going to make it better, you're going to be fine," she chanted like a prayer.

But her words were as empty as she felt.

~#~

It was too quiet, thought Lucy as she walked into the castle with Trumpkin. Much too quiet.

And there was a funny atmosphere about the place. It made the young queen uneasy.

Then she heard shouts echoing down the staircase.

"David! Go and find one of the centaurs - NOW! His life is hanging in the balance!"

Lucy's blood ran cold.

She let go of her DLF's hand and ran up the stairs towards the commotion she had heard. Sprinting along the corridor, she saw an open door.

Susan's door.

But the woman had said his life.

Caspian.

Running as fast as her short legs would allow, the Valiant Queen skidded down the gallery and came to a stop outside the door.

What she saw inside made her scream inside.

Caspian was sprawled face down on the bed, his face sallow and covered in sweat. His breathing was ragged and rattling.

And he was surrounded by a spreading pool of his own blood.

But the worst part of it wasn't that. It was seeing her sister so totally helpless, clutching her King's hand, desperately pressing a cloth to his back.

"Susan!" she cried, running to the bedside.

"Lu?"

Lucy didn't say anything more, but ripped the small bottle from her belt. She shoved it into her sister's hand.

"Save him."

Susan looked up at her small sibling with a look of someone saved from a terrible fate. Her eyes locked with Lucy's.

"Thank you."

Then she unstoppered the bottle, and carefully poured two drops of the cordial into Caspian's mouth. Everyone in the room held their breath.

The change that was wrought in him was instant. His breathing suddenly slowed down, the rattle gone from his throat. His face regained its colour.

Susan tentatively lifted the cloth from his back, hardly able to look.

The horrific wound had closed over as if it had never been reopened.

"Lu - I - "

"You don't need to thank me. He needed it." Lucy looked right at her sister. "And you need him."

And with that, she turned and left the room, knowing that she was not needed in there for the minute.

Susan's mouth hung open for a second, before she realised what her sister had given her. She had given her Caspian back.

I will never forget this.

Caspian shifted slightly, now peacefully asleep. His hand was still tightly holding Susan's.

She looked down at their fingers.

He was alive.

~#~

About an hour later, Caspian began to stir. His fingers twitched, his eyelids fluttering.

The healer and her assistants had left, promising to return again in the morning, now that they were sure of their King's recovery.

"Caspian?" she breathed.

His lips quirked, then parted. "Susan?"

"I'm here," she whispered.

His eyes slowly opened. "Susan," he repeated, smiling gently, his hand tightening around hers.

"Thank - thank god you're okay," she whispered, stroking his face. She pushed the hair out of his eyes.

He shifted slightly in the bed. His face betrayed no pain. Lucy's cordial had obviously done its job, though he still looked pale under his tan.

"How d'you feel?"

When he spoke, his voice was quiet and roughened. "As if I had just fought the entire Telmarine army singlehanded."

Susan bit her lip. "This is my fault."

"No!" Caspian sat up very fast, so fast that it had probably caused him pain. He practically grabbed Susan's chin. "You are at no fault. It is I that am at fault."

His face was tormented. "I have taken your - "

Susan shook her head, placing a finger over his lips. "No. I gave it to you."

Caspian's eyes searched her face. He saw no doubt, no anger, not even fear. All he saw was resolute, unwavering love.

He opened his mouth, but Susan wiggled her finger. "No blame. No guilt. All there is, Caspian, is you and me."

He looked at her as if he was about to say something, then he nodded.

"You and me," he repeated, then wound his arms around her.

They stayed there a while, holding each other in the big bed that might have been the entirety of existence, for all they knew. Susan's head was laid on Caspian's chest, her palm flat on his stomach. His arms were wound around her.

By some unknown instinct, she lifted her chin just as Caspian pulled her gently up. Their lips met softly, like a whisper.

They broke apart briefly, eyes meeting as if they were inexorably connected by some arcane link.

They slipped lower in the bed, kissing once again, on their sides now, more one being than two. One kiss melded into another, with no need for words or for explanations. Caspian's leg wrapped around Susan's, drawing her close to him.

I never want to let you go.

Their lips parted again, their faces an inch apart. That bond that somehow held them together, Susan Pevensie from Finchley, and Caspian X, the Telmarine, shimmered in the air around them.

There were no words as Susan gently undid Caspian's shirt. He sat up, eyes never leaving hers as she pulled it slowly over his head.

He didn't need to speak as he crushed her to him, his lips meeting hers again. He moved back, looking deep into her eyes. His hands undid the laces at the front of her dress, loosening the garment. She moved closer to help him, both of them on their knees, facing each other as he managed to undo the final lace. He pressed a single kiss to her collarbone before he lifted the dress off over her head.

They stayed there for a moment, lips brushing together, hands twining together at their sides. Caspian used their joined hands to pull them back under the sheets, where their mouths met again, arms wrapping and re-wrapping around one another's forms.

Susan arched towards him as his fingers worked at the back of her corset, her leg twisting around Caspian's calf. He pressed a kiss below each collarbone, before removing the undergarment fully.

His hands caressed her, causing whisper-soft sighs to fall from her parted lips. He drew her closer, hugging her almost bare body to him. Their lips danced again, until Caspian's moved down to Susan's chest, stroking across her heated skin. She arched in his arms, pressing herself against his mouth even more.

As his lips worked over her skin, he slowly trailed his hand down to her waistband. Lifting her hips off the bed, he pulled off her knickers, stroking down her leg in one long line.

"You are beautiful," he breathed in his emotion laced accent, pulling her tight against his body. She slipped her hands down to his trousers, undoing them carefully. She slid them all the way down his legs, then pulled herself back up to Caspian's face. She kissed him, holding his face in her hands as his hands held her waist in their warm grip.

She felt him pressing against her. His legs gently parted hers. She wrapped her legs around him, guiding him into her.

Susan's thighs tightened around Caspian's waist as they joined. He shuddered, the shiver running all the way through him.

He moved slowly, holding her close. Small sighs escaped both their lips, their mixed breathing falling away into the still night air. The Gentle Queen's hands fisted into her King's hair.

Caspian's mouth traced all over Susan's torso, making wide, shuddering swirls paint themselves on her skin. He shifted onto her, moving faster as he gently pressed her into the pillows. Her arms swept up and down his back, trying to pull him desperately closer.

He pushed her legs slightly wider apart, deeper inside her now. She moaned, tightening her legs around him, wanting only him. And yet he kept that same, moderate pace, slowly building them up to the precipice.

He looked down at her, their eyes meeting. He caught her hand against the mattress, twining her fingers with hers. He had never felt this way about anyone, and never would again. He knew that like he knew his own name.

He watched her, his Queen, his Susan, beginning to fall apart under his ministrations. And he felt that sick rise in his own body, in his own soul. He had no wish to rush it, so he maintained his motion, still looking down at her.

"I love you," he whispered in English, not Telmarine.

Susan arched into him, dragging him further in. At the same second, he let out a quivering gasp, knowing he would not be long after her. She let out a quiet scream, chanting his name over and over again.

And then he yelled incoherently, clutching her close to him. "Susan, my Susan," he managed to articulate before his mind exploded once and for all.

They rocked together, mouths open, eyes tight shut as shocks rippled through their bodies.

"Stay with me," whispered Caspian, rolling onto his side and folding her into his arms.

"I'm not going anywhere," Susan replied, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I'm not going anywhere."

And it was still.


	13. Sister To Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that time when I named chapters after obscure MCR songs they only played live (or, that one time I put freakery into my romance and drama story)

Midnight.

The witching hour.

The time when demons came out to play.

The time when the wrongs of your past came to haunt you as you drifted between the land of dreams into the land of nightmares.

The Telmarine castle had never felt so tense, not since Miraz had been defeated. The very stones of the castle seemed imbued with a horror at what had so nearly happened to their young king, at the hands of the magnificent ruler of their past.

Caspian's sleep had been unusually peaceful until then. Dreamless, still, he slumbered.

Susan, on the other hand, slept uneasily. Her dreams were tangled, twisting themselves into horrible knots that seemed never to unravel, or be able to be unravelled.

Peter's dreams were tinged with strong emotions. Tainted red with anger, biting with betrayal... and sour with guilt.

Edmund's dreams made no sense whatsoever... strange for one so logical.

Up in the clock tower, the bell tolled, twelve long, sonorous chimes that rang through the still air, the very being of the castle seeming to shake with the ominous vibrations.

Edmund started awake as the second chime rang out. He swung his legs out of bed, and walked over to his window.

The sky was clear, but almost pitch black. The only points of light were the stars, for it was a new moon.

Darkness... bad things always hide in the dark.

The Just King looked back towards his bed, but somehow it seemed unappealing now. As the final bell tolled, he sat down on the window seat, staring out into the night.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

~#~

Susan was standing in the middle of a field. As far as the eye could see, grass panned around in a shallow bowl, the green stalks appearing to touch the bright blue sky itself.

She held out a hand in front of herself, examining the familiar digits.

With surprise, she noticed her skin looked different. It was dry and white, entirely unlike her normal fair complexion.

"Susan?"

She looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. "Caspian?"

He came bounding over the horizon, a smile bright on his distant face. Susan smiled widely, then began to walk towards him.

Out of the blue, a horrible crash rent the sky, a flash of light almost blinding her. She fell to her knees, shielding her face.

It might have been years later by the time she opened her eyes, blinking hard, rubbing her ears. But she could still hear -

The cry that reached her ears nearly killed her. She knew it was him.

Susan tried to get to her feet, but her legs weren't working properly.

"Help me -"

"I'm coming, Caspian, I'm coming!"

She staggered to her feet, and started to run. But it didn't feel right, it was like her limbs were made of stone or iron or lead.

"What - "

She kept running, trying to reach her love, whose anguished cries were born on the hot wind towards her.

But it was getting harder and harder to maintain any speed - and she tripped, flinging herself headlong into the long grass.

She reached out in front of her, trying to get up again - but she stopped, staring at her hand.

Her wrinkled, lined hand.

"Susa-"

"I'm coming, Caspian!" she tried to shout, but her voice was only a croak. She scrabbled at the grass, which was suddenly withered and brown, desperately trying to get to her feet.

One last, heart rending moan echoed over the dry stalks - and then it was silent.

Susan lay where she was, staring at her old, liver spotted hand, in a bowl of dead grass, under a sky as faded as her skin.

And then she too went still.

Susan shot bolt upright, a scream choking in her throat.

"Susan?" Caspian sat up next to her, his face concerned. But she didn't answer, burying her face in his chest. A low sob erupted from her throat. "Susan?" he asked, now sounding scared. "Querida, tell me, what is wrong?"

"Nightmare," she whispered into his chest, expecting him to laugh. But he didn't. He stroked her cheek, holding her close.

"What was it about, mi corazon?"

She looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. "You were hurt - and I couldn't help you - because I was - I was old." Another involuntary sob went through her.

Caspian took her face in his hands. "It was only a dream. It was not real. You are here, I am here, there is nothing to fear." He touched his forehead to hers. "Nothing to fear."

He held her like that until her breathing quietened.

"I promise there is nothing to fear," he whispered, cupping his palm around her cheek.

She nodded, letting him pull her back down onto the bed. "It was - horrible."

He nodded, pulling the blankets over her as she wrapped her arms around him. "I know." He curled her against his bare chest.

She sniffled.

"Shhh, everything is all right." He stroked her hair back off her pale face, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Everything is all right."

~#~

"Peter," whispered a voice.

"Peter..." It called again, the sibilant voice drawing out the second syllable.

He walked along the corridor to the sound of the voice. It was... alluring.

"This way, Peter..."

He kept walking, enchanted by the beauty of this unknown person's voice.

The Magnificent King rounded a corner, and became aware of a strange scent in the air. Heavy, and cloying, it oiled every breath he took.

"Over here, Peter..."

He followed, barely of his own volition, caring only about hearing that beautiful voice again, whispering his name.

Peter took another step - and put his foot in something wet. The thick, sticky liquid dripped to the floor with a viscous plop.

He no longer wanted to keep walking. But he couldn't stop his feet from moving, moving through the puddle on the flagstones, moving with a sucking, sloshing sound that chilled his bones to the marrow, moving deeper into the dark where something with a voice like a destroying angel lay in wait.

A metallic tang reached his nostrils, burning them. A half choked sound came from the floor in front of him.

And then his foot met something that prevented further movement. Something solid, but soft. Something that was taking shallow, gasping breaths, each one laced with the same blood that had drenched Peter's feet.

Someone that was dying.

"That's it, Peter," crooned the voice. "You've done so well. But you need to finish it off for me, don't you, my sweet boy, my clever little son of Adam?"

Peter tried to shake his head.

"Now now, that's no way to behave, my little King - because you'll be High King again, won't you? All you have to do is one little tiny thing."

Peter felt his knees bend of their own volition.

"Don't be afraid, dear Peter Pevensie from Finchley. We're old friends, aren't we?"

An icy chill spread along the corridor. Around him, the blood on the floor froze into cloudy red crystal. His breath misted in front of him.

Peter tried to stand up, tried to reach out to help the dying person, but his hands wouldn't move, wouldn't do anything but hold themselves as if to receive a present.

"Nnn-" he tried to speak.

"Don't be silly, this is what was meant to happen, wasn't it? I'm just helping you - like I always wanted to help you, you and your siblings."

Something heavy was in his hands.

"But this time - this time, I didn't even have to try. You chose it for yourself, didn't you, Peter? You didn't need me to ask - you just did it."

His hands tightened of their own accord on the object in them.

"You've learnt well - I am so proud of you, Peter."

Peter's blood had frozen in his veins.

"You've done so well."

His hands lifted so that he could see what was in them.

"We're just the same, you and me. We both know who should be on the throne, don't we?"

Peter tried to loosen his grasp, but couldn't.

"I always knew you'd come around eventually - you're not strong enough without me."

He found himself leaning over the panting body.

"You do so want to be King, don't you, Peter?"

He nodded, unable not to, as if his very will had been frozen by the same cold magic.

"All you have to do is finish what you started, Peter," cooed the voice, the voice that he knew so well.

Peter's hands raised the long, icy staff above his head, ready to strike.

"After all, this is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Peter jerked awake, breathing heavily.

"What have I done?" he breathed. "What have I done?"


	14. New Dawn Fades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thus begins the slow progression towards slightly more intelligent writing
> 
> still retro posting

For once, Susan woke before Caspian. She lay on her side, studying the boy - or, she supposed, man - sleeping deeply beside her.

Caspian was laying half on his side, the sheets tangled around his lower body. His hand was splayed on the mattress cover, reaching towards Susan. His face was turned into the pillow, so only part of his tanned features were visible. His eyelids, deep coffee tinted, with their rim of dusky lashes were still - he was enjoying dreamless sleep for a change.

His face was so utterly peaceful that Susan stared at it for a moment, trying to memorise it. He was almost childlike in sleep, his face completely clear and innocent.

She stroked his hair off his face, rendering his cheekbones visible. He still looked a little pale, despite his skintone, and his hair was in definite need of a wash: blood still caked the strands at the back. His nose had been healed by Lucy's potion, thankfully, but the faintest purple of bruising still lingered. He still had the small lacerations on his temple, and his lip still looked tender.

Her eyes travelled down. His back had healed over again, thanks to Lucy, as had the gash on his stomach, but he was still covered in bruises where he had smashed backwards into the cobbles, marring the brown expanse of his back.

Susan let her eyes follow the shape of him. His strong shoulder, leading to a lightly muscled arm ending in a long fingered hand. A talented hand, she thought, streams of memory flickering in front of her eyes.

His neck, paler under his hair where the sun could not reach it. His mahogany hair, falling in waves around his beautiful face, with its straight nose and wide brow set off by his cut cheekbones and jaw.

His back, muscle groups defined in the shoulder blades by shadow and light glinting off his smooth tawny skin, tapering down to a slim waist, before the bedlinen obscured him.

The white sheets covered his lower half, but were tangled enough to show his long, toned legs. He had good legs. She'd always thought it. Which made it handy that Caspian seemed to prefer tight trousers.

Susan entertained for a minute the possibility of divesting him of the sheet in order for her to finish her examination... properly.

She leant over to him, and gently tugged at the sheet.

"What are you doing, mi reina?" asked a confused sounding Caspian.

Shit.

"Um... nothing...?" She made as if to pat at the sheet. "There was... something... on the sheet..."

Caspian propped himself up on one elbow. "What?"

"Uh... something..."

He gave her a funny look, then reached down to pull the sheets back up over his shoulder blades. Susan pouted involuntarily.

Caspian's mouth fell open in surprise, then he laughed, realising what she'd been trying to do.

Susan blushed, turning her face away.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm, bare chest. A breath ruffled the hair on top of her head.

"Don't turn away from me, I like your face too much," he said, pouting a little.

Susan kissed his chest. He shivered.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, tracing his stomach muscles with one finger.

"Better," he replied, stroking her back. "Although I think I could do with a bath."

Susan nodded. "I'll call the maid in a minute."

"Nooooo," he moaned, dragging her closer, "stay with me. I want to sleeeeeeeep."

"All right then, baby," she cooed as he curled up against her.

~#~

Susan left Caspian to bathe around an hour and a half later, and made her way to one of the other rooms, where she called for a bath. Loath as she was to wash off his scent, she didn't really want to have the lingering bits of blood and mud on her.

Susan lay in the tub, arms hanging out, appreciating a moment to think.

The moment, however, was interrupted.

"Caspian, didn't anyone ever teach you not to interrupt a lady's bath?" she demanded as he snuck in through the door, hair still damp.

He gave her a wide eyed look of innocence, then sat with his back against the opposite wall.

"Do you get off on watching me wash, or something?" she asked sarkily, pointing one toe as she stretched her leg out of the water.

Caspian swallowed as he watched the long, dripping limb extend in front of him. He wondered if he'd ever stop reacting to her like he did.

No.

She swung her legs out of the bath, then stood up, water cascading off her.

She is a goddess. She cannot truly be mine.

"Pass me that towel, would you?"

He got up, holding out the fluffy piece of material. She walked over and let him wrap her up in it. He spun her so her back was to his chest, and cuddled her close.

Susan spoke aloud their shared worry. "Whatever Peter says or does, I won't let him hurt you. You and I are strong enough for his words not to matter."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You are the most important thing to me in this world. Peter..." He trailed off, showing the unsureness of youth again.

"Will have to get used to it," she finished.

They stood there a moment, looking out through the casement with its leaded glass that cast glowing patterns all over the stone floor.

"A new day," he mumbled in her ear as the sun shone in through the window.

Susan caught his hand in hers. "A new day."

~#~

Edmund wasn't having the best breakfast. Peter still hadn't shown his miserable face, and poor Lucy looked so on edge that she kept spilling her juice.

Of course, it could always get worse. It normally did.

Caspian and Susan came into the room side by side. Their hands were barely visible, but they were clasped tight together. They were closer than ever. Edmund supposed a near death experience would do that to a couple.

"Morning," Edmund said.

"Good morning, Edmund," said Caspian in his normal friendly manner.

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't stop Pe -"

Caspian waved his hand. "You did all you could. Please, don't worry about it. After all, I am fine now." He turned to Lucy. "I believe I owe you my life, young queen." He bent down to her level. "Thank you, Lucy." He gave her a quick hug.

Susan held his hand as they sat down next to each other.

Edmund tried to get on with his food, but tension was gnawing at him.

It didn't help that he could see Caspian and his sister playing footsie under the table.

The doors creaked open.

Every single person at the table froze.

Peter cleared his throat. Caspian looked up, distrust badly hidden in his face.

"My actions yesterday," the High King said in a somewhat choked voice, "were reprehensible and uncalled for. I acted rashly and... I'm sorry. Truly, I am sorry." He tried to meet Caspian's eyes.

Caspian nodded.

"What's more - " Peter broke off, swallowing as if what he had to say was unpalatable to him. "You and Susan can do whatever you like. It's not my business if you like each other -"

"No," stated Caspian, his face hard. Peter looked taken aback. "I do not like Susan."

Susan didn't react, because she trusted him. Edmund started a little, but Lucy just looked enchanted.

"I love her," Caspian declared, reaching out to take her hand in his.

Peter nodded. "Fine by me."

"I must make my own amends now," said Caspian. "I will not apologise for my feelings towards your sister. My heart is my own and it shall not be punished for its desires. However, I will apologise for causing any disrespect or animosity towards you."

"Forget about it."

Peter still looked hideously uncomfortable. And so, despite Caspian's better judgement, he decided to be the better man.

He held out his hand. "Yesterday is forgotten."

Peter looked up, his face surprised. But he took Caspian's hand.

"I would like it, however, if you did not try to kill me again," said the young Telmarine, a faint smile quirking his lips.

"I'll do my best."

Susan smiled. The man beside her seemed to shine - not just in the morning sunshine casting him in golden beams as he had stated his love for her, but in some sort of nobility. She knew that this exchange had not just seen Caspian the lovestruck young man, but King Caspian who would be the greatest monarch Narnia had ever known.

She squeezed his hand where it still lay in hers.

The gentle returning pressure of his long fingers was like coming home.

~#~

Caspian was sat at a desk in his... what was it Susan had called it? A bureau? A pile of treaties sat in front of him, and about six different requests from emissaries. This job was not as easy as some would have you believe.

He would admit, he was feeling a little out of depth. But what was it she'd said to him?

Follow what your heart tells you. Your heart is with Narnia.

He finished reading the third one, and set it down. This one would not do. He had no desire to do a deal with Archenland before Narnia was at its full strength again.

He scribbled a note on the first page.

A warm rush of air hit him. He looked up in surprise.

"Aslan!" He hurriedly got to his feet.

"Sit down, son of Adam," said the lion, padding up to his desk. "I see you are making headway with your diplomatic duties." His great golden face seemed to smile slightly.

Caspian nodded. "Yes, I think so, Aslan, although there are many problems that must be surmounted in the coming months. For one thing, the question of nationality." He put his pen down, looking at the noble lion. "I must give Narnia back to the Narnians. But I will not take away the rights of the common Telmarine either."

"You speak with wisdom, young King. How will you resolve this?"

He leant back slightly in his chair, thinking. "I think... I think that some Telmarines will not be happy with the changes. But there has to be some way to keep everyone happy, and give them what they are due. Narnia belongs to the Narnians, after all."

Aslan looked right at the new King as he ran his hands through his hair. "We can send them back to where they came from - if they so wished."

"We could?" Caspian thought this through. He knew many of his people had never liked Narnia. "Well, I think it best to give them the choice, once they know that Narnia is to be Narnian again. But how -"

"I will see to it. Call your people together tomorrow morning in the cliff square."

He nodded. "Yes, Aslan."

The lion bowed his head slightly, then left.

Caspian watched him go, before turning back to the piles of documents. He picked one up, then slumped forward onto his desk.

"Bored already?" asked a lightly amused voice.

He started, looking up. Susan was standing in front of him, hand on one hip. Her lips were quirked in a slight smile.

"Not bored, more..." He waved his hands at all the stuff he was trying to do.

"Swamped?" suggested Susan, leaning on one leg, pushing one hip out to the side. Caspian nodded, trying not to get distracted.

"Yes. I am swamped."

She came over to the desk, and picked up the treaty he'd just been looking through. She laughed at what he'd written on the front.

"I guess you didn't like this one, then?" she asked, pointing at the scrawled note.

NO, it read. The word was underlined three times.

"There was a worse one," he said weakly. Susan picked up the next one, then practically cackled in mirth.

"Over my dead body?" she exclaimed, reading the angrily written letters.

"That treaty would see us twinned with people who are no better than Miraz. I will not do that to my people."

To Caspian's surprise, Susan looked enthused by his angry statement, as if he had just produced an adorable puppy.

"Oh, Caspian. The people are going to LOVE you."

He blushed a little.

She leant her hip against the wood. Caspian scooted his chair in so he was closer to her. She laughed, then handed him the two treaties back.

Caspian dragged his eyes back to the treaty he was working on now. This one was all right, actually, though it would need approving by the Council.

Susan came to lean over his shoulder. He felt his pulse begin to quicken a little as he wrote. He shifted in his chair a bit as she spoke in his ear. "Do you want a hand with them?"

Her hand slid up his side.

He dropped his pen, splattering ink all over the blotter.

In that moment, all reason went right out of his head. Caspian kicked his chair back from the desk, then dragged Susan into his lap, pressing his lips furiously to hers.

Susan squeaked slightly in surprise, before fisting her hands into his shirt. It seemed fiesty Caspian had come out to play again.

He stuck his tongue into her mouth, and was rewarded by a breathy moan. The sound went right to his inside, making him heat up. He kissed her harder, then swept her hair aside as he worked his mouth down to the juncture between shoulder and neck. He bit down, then sucked at the skin. Susan mewled.

I am done for, he thought hazedly before he stood up, holding Susan to him. His mouth claimed hers again as she stepped back onto the floor.

He used one arm to clear away the piles of heavy ribbon bound vellum, before pushing Susan down onto the desk with his body. She seized his face and kissed him hungrily, her hands fisting into his hair.

Caspian tore at the laces at the front of her dress, then gulped. Susan looked up at him, biting her lip.

"No - ?"

"Didn't feel like it." She smirked - before her head tipped back as his mouth met her newly exposed skin. "Ungh-"

Caspian, surprising himself somewhat with this new side of his personality, shoved Susan's skirt up to her waist. He grabbed the her waistband - and ripped her underwear off her.

Susan gasped, feeling herself get very warm. Her stomach curled.

Pocketing it, he undid the laces at the front of his trousers, then thrust himself forward.

Susan moaned, grabbing at his shirt. He pulled his face back to hers, kissing her hotly.

I don't know where this Caspian came from, but can he stay? Please?

Caspian shoved himself up further onto the desk, covering her body completely, owning her. She was gasping and panting in his ear.

He bit at her neck, and she practically screamed. Her hands worked all over him, trying to get him closer, wanting everything he was and more.

"You are - too - good- at this," she ground out, sliding her hands under his shirt, her nails raking up his back, surely leaving marks.

~#~

Edmund was looking for Caspian. He had offered to show him the intricacies of the Judicial system, and had decided to come over to teach him now, whilst he had nothing better to do.

He strolled, whistling, along the corridor to the King's office, and pushed open the door.

"Oh FUCK!" he exclaimed.

Things he had never wanted to see included his sister having sex with Caspian. They definitely included seeing them going at it on a desk so hard the legs were wobbling, with Caspian's face buried into the neckline of Susan's dress, and her hands fisted into his hair.

"Oh, Caspian," he heard his sister moan over Caspian's panting.

Edmund got out of there as quickly as he could, practically running away.

He turned his face heavenwards, regardless of the servants coming down the corridors around him. "Why, God? Why do you hate me?"

~#~

This had to be one of the hottest moments of Susan's life. She was burning, burning with Caspian's lust and want and love. But what a lovely way to burn.

"Uh - uh - more - please -" Susan's back suddenly arched off the table, pressing her chest into Caspian's mouth. He bit lightly, and she screamed. "Caspian! Fuck! Caspian!"

Her fingers dug into his scalp and back, and he lost it, moaning her name and several Telmarine profanities, before slumping across her.

When he pulled back, it struck him that Susan, with her hair dishevelled and her face flushed, lying with her head against ink stained papers, was possibly the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

And he said so too.

~#~

"Aslan's here?" exclaimed Lucy. "But he hasn't been to see me," she said, hurt.

"I'm sure he will do at some point, Lu." Susan gave her sister a hug. "Why don't you go play chequers with Trufflehunter again?"

She nodded, brightening. "See you guys later." And she skipped off.

Caspian wrapped his arm around Susan's shoulder. She leant into him as they walked under the shade of the trees.

After a minute, she spoke. "I do hope there's nothing bad happening," she said worriedly. "Aslan always talks to Lucy - she's always been the closest of all of us to him."

The young King did not voice the niggling fears he perpetually battled. That was all they were, right - fears?

"I should not worry, my Susan," he said, kissing her cheek. "Aslan always acts in our best interests."

~#~

"You're a twat, Peter, in case I haven't mentioned before," said Edmund to his brother.

"Yes, I'm a twat. I got that the first time you said it." He massaged his cheek, which still bore a massive bruise. "I said sorry, we're all fine and dandy."

"He's going to ask him to marry her." Edmund was grave, staring out of the window.

"You think?"

"Well...," the Just King sighed, looking down at Susan and Caspian, who were sprawled out on the grass down below. "If he gets the chance."


	15. Time Is Running Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well if that chapter title doesn't tell you anything I don't know what does
> 
> yay for fairytale metaphors
> 
> retro post

The bell in the clock tower chimed. Caspian groaned.

"I am sorry, mi Susan, I must return."

She smiled. "It's okay. Go off and be kingly."

He got to his feet, bending to kiss her briefly.

"Caspian," said Susan, still looking up at the sky, "have you got my underwear?"

"Me?" he asked, the picture of innocence. He smiled brilliantly at her, then walked off.

"Bloody man," she grumbled.

"I heard that!" he called over his shoulder.

"Ugh... remind me not to fall over," she muttered to herself, then closed her eyes.

~#~

Caspian scrawled one final note on the pile of treaties. There were two he thought would benefit Narnia, and so would take them to the next royal council, the day after tomorrow.

Tomorrow... he needed to work out what he was going to say. Spontaneous speeches were his thing, but it would probably be a good idea to plan how he was going to appease Narnians and Telmarines alike.

He chewed on the end of the quill pen for a minute, then pulled a sheet of paper towards him.

A rather crumpled sheet of paper.

~#~

Peter had not had the benefit of any of Lucy's magical cordial, so he basically felt like shit. However, he knew he deserved it.

He walked - gingerly, as his leg was still aching from Caspian's final defensive kick - through the gardens. He'd spent the morning in the library, trying to avoid everyone.

But he'd seen Caspian walk away from his sister, and knew that now was his chance to make amends with her properly.

He walked slowly towards where she was lying in the grass, eyes closed.

"Su?"

She didn't open her eyes. "What, Peter?" There was no warmth in her voice at all.

"Look, I want to apologise properly."

"I'm not stopping you."

Peter sighed, and then sat down on the grass near her. He wrapped his arms around his knees in a gesture very like his sister.

"Look, Su, I didn't want to hurt you."

Her eyes snapped open. "Well, you went a good way about that, didn't you? Nearly killing Caspian?"

"I didn't mean -" He stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. "Su, I let my temper get the better of me. I didn't set out to try to kill him, I swear. It just got out of hand."

"Yes, I think you could say that."

"I was wrong, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

"No. You shouldn't." Her voice was icy.

"But try and understand why." He looked right at her, but she turned away. "Look at me, Su."

She unwillingly turned her face to her brother's. He was pleading, she could see that now.

"Su, you're my little sister. It's my instinct to protect you. I know you don't always need me to, but I'm always there. It's my job. I love you, little sister, and I don't want anything happening to you. And I know I reacted badly, but it was seated in my protective instinct."

Susan nodded. "It's okay, Pete."

"And I'm sorry I called you those things. What I said... was unforgivable."

She shook her head. "It's done now." She sat up.

"Come here, Su," he said, pulling his sister into a hug.

She hugged him back, pleased in of herself that she had her brother back.

~#~

Edmund walked into Caspian's office, trying to act normal.

"Hello, Edmund," he said cheerfully, leaning his elbow on his desk.

Don't think about what happened in here earlier, don't think about what you saw.

Edmund weakly waved the set of judicial decrees he'd drafted when he was King back in the Golden Age. "Thought I'd come -" nooooooooo "and show you about the old judicial system."

"Thank you, Ed," he grinned, sweeping a set of papers aside on the desk.

Edmund gulped. He didn't want to know why that parchment was so scrumpled up.

Caspian stood up and dragged a chair over to the corner of the table. Edmund tried not to think about what had been going on on that table not two hours ago, and sat down.

He watched his probably soon to be brother in law reach up to a shelf to pull down a couple of books on Telmarine justice. As the tall boy leant up, his waistcoat rode up, exposing his pocket.

And a pair of white lace knickers was poking out.

Edmund sat there, frozen. This was the seventh circle of hell, for sure. He must have done something truly terrible in a past life to deserve this.

He didn't move, unable to look anywhere except the floor as Caspian walked back to the desk, unaware of the Just King's mortification.

The new King ran a hand through his hair.

"So, where shall we start?" he asked, innocently.

~#~

Peter and Susan had gone to sit by the ornamental pond. Peter was skimming stones across the water. Or at least, he was trying to.

When the fifth stone sank, he gave up, throwing the small handful of pebbles as far into the water as he could, startling a waterbird. It flew off, cawing in indignation.

Peter eyed the bird, then picked up a couple of strands of reed, twisting them together in his hands.

"You're not very good at not doing anything, are you?" she asked, amused.

He looked up. "Not really."

"You could always offer to help," Susan suggested.

"Caspian's got it covered, I'm sure. I don't want to cramp his style." He turned his attention back to his reed rope. "Besides, he's going to have to learn to deal without our help."

Susan sat up very quickly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Peter went pale. "Nothing... forget I said anything, Su."

Susan turned this over in her mind. Was what she had been thinking right?

She felt her stomach flip. Her head started to spin. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

No. No. NO.

Peter felt a prickle of unease at the base of his spine. He heard his sister stand up and come behind him. And then she asked him the brutal question, her voice shaking.

"You don't think we're staying, do you?"

~#~

There was something terribly wrong in the castle.

Susan couldn't focus on her food at all. She couldn't focus on anything except the crippling fear that had her bound.

"Su? Su?"

Edmund's question went unanswered. She stared blankly at the things on her plate.

"Carino," Caspian whispered, placing his hand on her knee to stop it from bouncing up and down nervously.

Edmund watched his sister carefully. She only acted like this when she was scared - properly terrified. He didn't see it often, the hunted look in her eyes, but it was there all the same.

Caspian was concerned. Susan's fork kept shaking on its way to her mouth.

But he tried to focus on acting normal to distract the other Pevensies around the table.

They were midway through a discussion about something as innocuous as the yearly dwarven festivals, when Susan knocked over a glass jug.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The jug spun, wobbling on its axis. Then it toppled for the last time, before falling to the floor where it smashed into a million glittering crystals.

Peter dived out of the way, but Susan was rigid in her seat. Rigid, except for the shaking.

"Mi corazon," Caspian whispered desperately, trying to get her to calm down. He held her face, stroking her cheek. "It is all right, it is all right."

Edmund turned to look at his elder brother. They shared a tense look. The younger Pevensie got up, on the pretence of clearing the glass away. He bent slightly and spoke into Caspian's ear. "Get her out of here."

Caspian nodded, then stood up. "Come on, my queen."

Susan numbly let him lead her out of the dining hall.

They were walking back down the corridor when Caspian grabbed her arm, and got her to stop. He faced her, holding the tops of her arms.

"Susan, what's wrong?" His face was tortured as he tried to understand what was making her act so strangely.

She stared at him for a second, her eyes brimming. She couldn't lose him, couldn't.

Then she flung her arms around him, sobbing.

Caspian was thrown off balance by this, but he caught her. He held her upright, taking all of her weight.

"Susan? Susan?" he asked.

She couldn't reply, just kept sobbing.

Caspian needed to get her out of sight. No one should see her like this. It was like seeing a fairytale come apart at the seams.

He bent slightly, and swung her up into his arms.

She didn't protest as he carried her up a flight of stairs to his bedroom, or as he laid her down like a child on his bed. Their bed, really, considering how they'd shared it in recent days.

He sat down beside her, letting her crawl into his lap. She was still sobbing.

He let her cry for as long as it took for the left side of his shirt to get soaked.

"Susan - please, tell me what is wrong?" He sounded desperate. "Please, talk to me."

She turned to look at him - and her expression broke his heart.

"I'm scared, Caspian, I'm so scared," she choked out.

"Of what, carino?" he asked, terrified.

She stared up at him. "That we're going back."

It took a moment for him to register what she meant. And then he acted without volition, his arms tightening around her.

"No."

"How can you be sure?" she begged.

"I -" He stopped, feeling the fear claw at him. "I cannot be sure of anything except what I feel for you. My love for you will not be see us separated from each other." He spoke with a conviction that he wished he felt completely.

Susan stared at him, her Caspian - and decided to believe him. Or, believe him as much as she could.

She scrambled out of his lap, pulling them both out of bed. She grabbed his face, pulling it down towards hers. He kissed her back without reservation, wrapping his arms tight about her.

Susan pushed his waistcoat off his shoulders, then set to work on his shirt.

"Slow down, mi corazon," he mumbled, "there is no rush."

But Susan couldn't stop herself from acting in this frenzy. She tore through the buttons on his shirt, ripping it off him.

Caspian, slightly bewildered, nevertheless found himself heating up in response to her actions. He ran his lips up her neck, beginning to feel the need for speed, for appreciating this while it was still here, desperation beginning to eat at him.

He tugged her towards him by the front of her dress, then set to work on the laces. The dress fell away in haste, leaving her completely bare, before he backed her onto the bed.

Susan pulled herself up, then grabbed Caspian by the hair, tugging him towards her. He moaned at the feeling of her hands pulling at his locks. He kicked off his boots, kissing all over her bare body. She shuddered, feeling the touch of his hands move down and she lost herself to him and his hands and his mouth, screaming out.

When she came to, she grabbed him by the waist, shoving him on top of her, dragging at his trousers until they came off.

It was hot and fast and hard, a tangle of limbs and sheets and fingers, twisting together with pleas and cries and moans. Her sweat covered arms slid over his shoulders, her legs twined with his as he pushed into her over and over again. It was too good, too much all at once - she thought she would explode from pure sense.

He licked at a bead of salt as it drifted down her breastbone, barely able to keep it together. He hid his face there, breathing heavily, panting her name repeatedly.

She arched up into him, nails digging into his shoulders, screaming his name. He went rigid, her name escaping his lips once before stars flashed in six different colours before his eyes.

She fell asleep almost instantly. But Caspian took a little longer, laying beside the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He'd found everything he ever wanted... but was it about to be snatched away from him?

~#~

Caspian woke up, surprised to find his arms empty. He sat up, blinking.

Susan was wearing his shirt, standing on the balcony. The moonlight made her icy pale, like a marble statue. She was completely motionless.

Maybe a pillar of salt would have been more appropriate as a description.

Caspian pulled his trousers on, swinging his legs out of bed. He got up, and walked through the doorway onto the balcony.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. She shivered slightly.

"It is cold outside," he said quietly.

It took a moment for her to be able to speak. "I know it is. But I wanted to watch the stars." She turned over her shoulder to look at him, a tiny smile pulling up one side of her face. "You can't see them back home."

It was a subtle shift, the shift from 'Finchley' to 'home'. But in that moment, he knew that there was so much more than thirteen hundred years of history between them. There was an entire world.

"I love Narnia. I love it so much," she said, staring out over the grounds. "Every little part of it. No one expects me to - it's Lucy that makes a big deal about it, and Peter always loved being King... and so did Edmund, in his quiet way. But I love it just as much, even if I don't shout about it."

"I know," he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

They stayed out there a while longer, not speaking, not needing to. A chill breeze washed across the two of them, holding the oversized shirt around Susan's slim form, and blowing their hair around.

"It is time we went inside, I think," said Caspian gently, letting her go only long enough for her to turn around, before he took her hand. He was loath to let go of her at all, even just for a second.

What did that mean?

They sat down on the edge of the bed. It was quiet, and cold in the room now. All that was warm was them, and the bond that still glowed in the air around them.

"I can't ever lose you," she whispered, holding his face. Her finger traced the line of his bone structure.

"You won't." He brought his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around her.

The pair fell sideways, kissing on the bed.

"We're the wrong way round," said Susan slightly tearfully.

"I don't care."

They started to kiss again, bodies pressed tight together. Susan's hands went to his hair, tugging through it. Caspian held her waist like it was made of spun glass.

Their legs were still hanging off the edge of the bed, tangling around each other. Susan ran her toes up his leather clad leg.

"These... off."

He let her drag the trousers off him, then pulled her on top of him. She raised her arms above her head. He tugged the shirt off her, pressing kisses to her stomach and chest as he drew it slowly over her skin.

She settled into place over him, and sighed as they fit together like they always did. Strange how something they'd only discovered a few days ago could have become natural to them.

Maybe we were always meant to be.

Caspian held her waist with one hand, the other holding her face as he moved slowly. "Mi bella reina," he whispered.

Susan leant forward, kissing him deeply, muffling both of their ragged breathing. She pulled back, hovering over him, matching his every move.

"I would stay a lifetime with you," she whispered, her hair hanging down either side of them. She pressed her lips to his again.

He ran his hand up her back, feeling her already begin to shudder. "Stay with me, Susan, stay with me -" he broke off, sitting upwards to wrap his arms around her as she cried out.

"I love - Caspian!" A tear ran down her face. "Caspian," she moaned, trailing off into a series of gasps and mewls.

And with that, he was lost. He felt himself fall off that edge. His arms tightened around her, burying his face in her neck. "Susan - my Susan - always -"

They curled up in the mess of sheets, still facing the wrong way. The moonlight shone across them, painting them in stripes of white, ice amongst heat and passion and love. No one spoke, but each was sure they could hear the other's heart beating as they lay knotted up in each others' limbs.

They were both crying.


	16. The Big Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh well this was depressing to write
> 
> I remember that and it's nearly two years since I wrote it
> 
> so
> 
> yeah
> 
> retro posting (are you even still wondering that)

Caspian had not slept particularly well. He woke up, stretching to get the kink out of his spine. Sleeping in a ball in the middle of a bed seemed to do that to you.

Susan was still fast asleep. He stroked her cheek.

He knew what he was going to do this evening, once the fireworks had gone off. He'd decided it the day before, after Edmund had left.

The younger Pevensie brother had been acting very strangely, he remembered. He'd looked like he'd seen a ghost when Caspian had come to sit at the desk, and he'd been jumpy throughout their discussion.

Strange. But what is not strange when a family of fairytale kings and queens from thirteen hundred years ago returns to a land now populated with mythical beasts and talking animals?

Caspian turned his mind from Ed to his plans.

He was going to ask Susan to marry him.

He'd always had the intention of making an honest woman of her. He hadn't known how exactly it would unfold, but now he did.

That is, if she stays for long enough for it to be worth it.

He dismissed that thought.

If I ask her tonight, Aslan cannot send her home. He cannot split up a betrothal.

Sure in this knowledge, he settled back to where he was.

He held Susan's soft hand in his, tracing her palm with his thumb.

"Wait til tonight, my love. Then we will be together forever."

~#~

Susan woke up about an hour after Caspian. She sleepily traced his face.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Hi," she yawned, stretching.

Caspian felt something clawing at him as she moved in his arms.

Susan felt the heat rising in her. She pressed her lips to his as he stroked her back.

Once more, whispered a voice in Susan's mind as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Once more.

~#~

Edmund was aware of something hanging in the air. It seemed... off.

The morning was weirdly cold, for the Narnian summer. As he walked through the corridor down to breakfast, he shivered, wishing now he'd put on another layer under his jacket.

Lucy, however, seemed unaware of this, chirping happily that she'd seen Aslan already this morning to say hello.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hello. Just because he's a lion doesn't mean he doesn't say hello." She stuck her tongue out at him as he imitated her hoity-toity attitude.

Peter schlepped in next, ruffling his hand through his blonde hair. Edmund eyed his older brother.

He seemed... different. Almost overly calm. Accepting.

Edmund had a very bad feeling about this. He had a sense that something was coming to an end - a very final end.

He heard voices outside the door, and turned around.

Susan and Caspian were standing outside, his hands on her waist, hers holding his arms. Caspian was talking quite passionately to her, his face bent to hers.

"I have to go sort out the announcement. I will see you later, I promise." There was a certain change in the Telmarine's voice that Edmund had never heard before.

Susan nodded. "Okay."

She leant up quickly on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back, then let her go. He took her hands in his quickly.

"Until later, my queen," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head, before he walked away.

Edmund turned back in his seat, trying to process what was going on in the castle.

Breakfast was a strange affair. Susan looked to have not slept at all - ugh, don't think about them fucking like bunnies... oh dear lord - and Peter was being weirdly quiet. Only Lucy was normal.

At the end of breakfast, Aslan appeared at the door.

"Good morning, Kings and Queens," he greeted them, bowing his head. They all rejoindered in their own ways. "Peter and Susan, I wonder if you would come for a walk with me."

Susan and Peter looked at each other.

A flash of understanding passed between them. Peter knew what was coming. Susan feared that she did.

They both stood up.

The two elder Pevensies followed the lion out of the dining room. He padded slowly along the corridor, then out into the cloister around the courtyard.

"You have both learnt a great deal in your time in Narnia," he said gravely.

Susan nodded, as did Peter. Suddenly, neither of them were particularly loquacious.

"You have been two of the greatest monarchs Narnia has ever known. You have saved the country twice now."

He turned to look at them. "And you have grown into a wonderful daughter of Eve and son of Adam."

"However," he said, and the word came like a proverbial 'bring out your dead'.

"It is time you returned to your own world to use what you have learnt here."

Susan took the first blow. She felt like she should be sinking to her knees from the force of it. But she remained standing. Beside her, Peter was stoic.

Taking it like a man until the very end, she thought.

"But we shall return again?" asked Susan. She considered the horrific possibility that they would return, and time would have played its tricks on them again. Caspian would be long dead, and she would still be young and alive.

"No, my young queen." Aslan's great voice was sad.

Susan registered the meaning of the lion's words. She would not be returning. It hit her like a fourteen ton train in the stomach.

Everything stopped. Nothing meant anything.

This was her last day in Narnia.

This was her last day with Caspian.

She wasn't coming back.

Ever.

~#~

Caspian strode back from the cliff square. He had assembled the people, now all they needed was Aslan... and the Kings and Queens.

He trotted quickly down the stairs into the courtyard, then stopped.

Peter and Susan were talking to Aslan. He stared at her, unable to take his eyes off her.

Then she turned around - and the look on her face struck fear into his heart.

He made as if to turn around.

"Your majesty?" asked Aslan, tipping his head up in curiosity. Was it him, or did the great lion's eyes seem sad?

He tore his eyes from Susan. "We are ready for you," he said simply, then turned to go.

Every single shred of heartstring told him not to, not to leave her.

~#~

Susan walked practically in a trance away from Aslan. His voice rang in her head. The two who are as yet unready shall remain.

She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to leave the best place in the world. She wasn't ready to leave Caspian.

Peter had pulled her into a hug, whispering that he was sorry. She'd nodded, drying an errant tear or two on his shoulder where he wouldn't see. But of course he knew.

She walked up the side of the square. She saw Caspian, already garbed in his fine courtly clothing, instead of the simple shirts and jerkins she knew he preferred. It was one of the things she loved about him.

His eyes met hers as she walked up the steps to the raised section of the square, searching her expression. She smiled, and his face seemed to relax.

She felt awful for reassuring him when she was about to tear out his heart.

As she brushed past, she took his hand. He quickly squeezed it in his.

She took her place. She might as well have been waiting for her own execution as she desperately tried to remember even this place, a town that had originally been her enemy's.

Caspian stepped forward, and she couldn't help the feeling of pride that washed through her. It was tainted, though, by the knowledge that it was the last time she would feel that pride first hand.

The King stood straight backed in front of his people as he began his somewhat unorthodox speech. It was short, and to the point.

"Narnia belongs to the Narnians," said Caspian, his strong voice carrying over the crowd. "Any Telmarines who wants to stay and live in peace are welcome to, but for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the land of our forefathers."

"It's been generations since we left Telmar," protested a man at the front of the crowd.

"We're not referring to Telmar," explained Aslan. "Your ancestors were seafaring brigands, pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world." He turned his great head to the Pevensies. "The same world as our Kings and Queens."

Susan was a little startled by this, despite how her heart was breaking inside. She was losing Narnia, and all its wonders and people and creatures - and she was losing Caspian.

If they'd never run aground, maybe I'd have met a real-life Caspian in my world.

Or maybe not. She knew he was one of those singular people one had the chance to meet very rarely, and never did again.

"It is to that island I can return you. It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start."

A new start... what I'd give for one of them with him.

A chorus of murmurs ran around the crowd in a great sussurating shiver. Caspian watched, making sure he showed no unsureness in front of his people.

In truth, he had no idea how many would leave.

Then a voice came from the crowd. "I will go."

Caspian searched for the source of the voice, then saw Glozelle. He wasn't exactly surprised. But he respected Glozelle, no matter what had gone beforehand.

"I will accept the offer."

Caspian met the old general's eyes, and then bowed his head to him as a mark of respect. Glozelle returned the gesture as he made his way out of the crowd.

"So will we," announced Prunaprismia, holding her son. Her aged father followed.

Caspian was a little taken aback, for he had loved his aunt, and bore her no ill will. He certainly bore his cousin no ill will whatsoever - he was just a baby.

He stepped back to let the small group of Telmarines pass.

"Because you have spoken first, your fortunes in that world shall be good," said Aslan, before breathing upon them. Then he turned to the tree at the back of the square.

It twisted around, its old branches quivering, until a large opening was created in its trunk. The people gasped. Caspian himself couldn't help peering in, before turning to glance at Glozelle and his Aunt.

The deputation of new-life Telmarines walked slowly forward into the gap - and disappeared.

A chorus of shouts went up, and Caspian had to blink to check he was not seeing things.

"How do we know he is not leading us to our deaths?" demanded an angry Telmarine voice.

Caspian spun around, trying to work out how he could salvage this situation. He trusted Aslan's power, but the Telmarines were naturally leery of the great lion - as, of course, they'd been taught from birth that he didn't actually exist.

Susan was numb. She saw Caspian, her strong and noble Caspian, standing in front of his people as he did the job he was born to do. And it broke her heart, seeing him completely unaware of what was about to happen.

"Sire," piped up Reepicheep, stepping forward in that noble way of his, "if my example can be of any service, I will take eleven mice through with no delay."

Susan's heartbeat was increasing.

Caspian felt a prickle at the base of his spine. His sixth sense was tingling.

Peter turned to Susan. The oldest Pevensies shared a look.

"We'll go," he said in a voice that rang of acceptance.

Edmund realised what was going on, and what had been going on for days. "We will?" he asked involuntarily.

"Come on," Peter said to his brother quietly. He turned to Susan. "Our time's up."

Caspian stood there, trying to process this. This was not in the plan. The prickling travelled up and down his spine.

"After all," continued Peter, coming over to face Caspian. He drew his sword, then handed it to him. "We're not really needed here any more." His words were so sad that Caspian knew this was not going to end as he hoped.

"I will look after it until you return," he said strongly, trying to focus on the fact that they had returned before, and would do again.

Susan took a deep breath, clinging to some ledge inside her head that kept her talking, kept her saying the words that she swore would end her.

"I'm afraid that's just it. We're not coming back."

Caspian froze. Time seemed to stop with those words that could kill him one heartbeat at a time. His entire body turned to ice. Then fire licked up every single one of his veins, burning him, searing him to the spot as he stared at Susan, not heeding whatever she was saying to her siblings. All he was able to register was that Susan was not coming back to Narnia.

Ever.

"All things have their time," he vaguely heard Aslan say to someone. The words were like a knife in his chest, a death knell sounding to tell him that there was no time, there never was, never would be. "Your brother and sister have learnt all they can from this world. Now it is time for them to live in their own."

Their own. Could it have been any more clear how far apart they truly were, what they had been fighting? How could he argue when Aslan decreed it? They were not of the same world. They were doomed from the start.

No. She can't - no -

His entire world felt like it was about to shatter and crumble to dust around him. His eyes saw Peter talking to Lucy, his ears heard the words - but his mind experienced nothing. Nothing except a pain that he thought would surely rip him in two.

Peter held his youngest sister's hands, leading her out of the way. He would do this for Susan - and for Caspian. He would give them one last moment together.

Caspian watched, silent, as Susan walked over to him. He barely noticed the other Pevensies as they walked over to Cornelius and Aslan. None of it mattered without her.

"I'm glad I came back," she said.

"I wish we had more time together," he replied, his accent thickening. She tried not to cry as she recognised what that meant.

"It would have never worked anyway," said Susan, smiling sadly.

"Why not?" asked Caspian, feeling his heart starting to crack.

"I am thirteen hundred years older than you," she said, half laughing. But her eyes told a whole other story. They said I love you forever.

Caspian laughed, trying to keep his thoughts in order.

Susan nodded once, and that involuntary movement was possibly the saddest thing he'd ever seen.

She turned to walk slowly away, towards the portal that would take her back to England, back to reality and sanity and as far away from Caspian as she could ever be. He watched her go, praying in some mad part of him that it wasn't real, that it was all some technicolour nightmare, but knowing all the time that this was cold hard reality and that it would always be that way once she'd gone, there would be no more magic in him, he wouldn't be him without her, he wouldn't be Caspian if he wasn't Caspian-and-Susan, he wouldn't be anything at all.

And then her heart took control, sending her spinning around on her heel.

She strode up to Caspian - her Caspian - and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her lips to his.

The young King of Narnia and Telmar kissed the Gentle Queen of Old, his arms holding her tightly. It was soft, and sweet, and perfect, but it was painfully obvious that this was goodbye, this was the last time they would touch like this, touch in any way at all, the last time they would be Susan-and-Caspian, that entity that they'd become, had always been destined to become, regardless of the gasps in the square, no matter what her family thought, or his - they were that, that was all they had ever been.

But it was to end.

They pulled apart, their eyes meeting for a long, burning second. Caspian's eyes were agonised as he desperately tried to memorise her face, never wanting it to fade because Susan would never fade in his memory, never fade in his heart.

And then he buried his face in her shoulder, his arms clutching her to him in the most bittersweet way possible: it felt like heaven but it was heaven only being granted at the jaws of hell. She held onto him, trying to desperately convey how much he meant, how much he would always mean, how she'd never forget him, how he'd always be there inside her, that fragment of Susan-and-Caspian that would burn for as long as she lived and longer.

"My heart is yours forever, my Susan," he whispered into her pale skin.

"I love you forever," she breathed against his hair.

And then he let her go.

Their eyes met for what would be the last time on this earth, or perhaps any earth, who knew how these things worked? The bond, that tangible bond that had always held them together shimmered in the air.

And then Susan turned. She looked up at him once, the faintest and briefest of smiles on her face. And then she walked away, walking towards the hole in the tree that would take her away from Caspian forever. She didn't look back for the pain it would undoubtedly cause.

The four Pevensies walked through their gate to Earth, one by one. Caspian watched as she, for she needed no name in his mind, there was only her, walked into the hole in the tree.

Susan's dark hair disappeared into the clear sky that was the same shade as her eyes. The young Telmarine's heart broke.

She was gone.


	17. Sleep Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here is the chapter that made a very snarky reviewer question both my writing style, plot choices and the character of Caspian and Susan (nope, not the characterisation, the characters)
> 
> she wasn't very nice
> 
> sad face
> 
> this is sad too
> 
> oh dear
> 
> sad retroactive posting

She was gone.

Caspian felt himself sway slightly. He felt lightheaded. He felt his foot begin to move - to walk after the Pevensies into their world.

The crowd behind him gasped.

"They're gone!" exclaimed one particularly loud Telmarine - and it was this one exclamation that brought Caspian back to reality.

His foot halted.

He had a duty here, to his people.

He could not leave.

He turned around to face the crowd. He swallowed.

"As you have seen, this portal is not a dangerous one. Our Kings and - " his voice hiked up slightly - "Queens have shown this. If you do not trust in my word, trust in theirs, as they have saved Narnia countless times."

Countless times which are no more.

"I once again offer you this opportunity for a new start." His words betrayed nothing of the turmoil in his head and the roiling emotions in his heart.

Give me that start, give me another chance, he thought wildly.

The Telmarines in the crowd turned to one another, discussing the situation. Caspian watched them, actively trying to distract himself.

I am my people's King. I live for them now.

And with that single, sad thought, he damned himself to a life of loneliness.

~#~

Susan leaned against the train window. Her siblings had tactfully engaged each other in a game of cards so she wouldn't have to deal with the outside world.

Across from her, Peter gave her a sad smile. This had to be hurting him too, but it was different. He hadn't lost the love of his life.

She gave the best smile she could muster, and then resumed staring out at the countryside. The green fields, unobtrusive as they were, were as far away from Narnia as she could get right now.

It was raining too.

~#~

Never let it be said that Caspian was in thrall to his emotions. They may have ruled much of him, but his head was controlled by reason and his strong moral code. He had carried out every single duty asked for him today, and to the best of his ability. The council was highly impressed with their teenage king.

It was only Reepicheep, standing as a state guard, and the Professor, sitting in as an advisor, that noticed the young Telmarine's demeanour. Most of the council did not know their King well enough to know what his normal behaviour was. But the Professor had taught him since he was a small boy, barely able to walk, and he knew his former pupil better than he did himself. Reepicheep had also spent a long time with Caspian, and knew of his passionate personality.

His passion was still there outwardly: he had attacked treaties and declarations with the zeal of a born king. But his eyes were still. Lifeless. Even his voice had changed – it was smoother than usual, as if he was working exceptionally hard to hide his emotions.

As Caspian hashed out the drafting of the new legal system – the basics of which he'd gone over with Edmund only yesterday – the Professor watched him.

"This is the system that," the King's voice hitched slightly – "that the Kings and Queens of Old used. I see little fault in its overall workings. I would, however, like to examine how the finer details function before we rewrite any constitution."

The Professor was proud of his charge: his behaviour and logic were exemplary, and his knowledge of Narnia and politics seemed to only grow with the day.

But it concerned him how Caspian's free hand was curling into a tight fist on the table, and his leg was jittering up and down. He hadn't seen Caspian act like this since his boyhood friend Sebastian had been killed by the sickness when they were fourteen.

His heart went out to the young king. And yet he still went on, never once showing himself to be anything other than a good ruler.

"My King?" Caspian lifted his head from the treaty he was pretending to read.

"Yes, Falatian?" He did his best not to let his voice betray his feelings. To most of the world, today had been a resounding success for him.

"Royal audiences will begin tomorrow; I was wondering what the criteria for order was…?"

The young king had to think for a second. "Let anyone come, I will speak to them regardless of rank or past. However, if it is a grave matter, I would ask that you send them ahead. That is fair, is it not?"

The advisor nodded. "An excellent plan, your majesty, one which the Kings and Queens of Old would have been proud of, if I may say so. An end to a day of triumph to begin your majesty's reign."

His chest constricted. He had to swallow before he spoke. "That means a great deal, Falatian, thank you." It was true, and the man smiled at his young monarch.

That didn't stop it hurting, though.

"Anyway, my liege, that is the end of the council for today."

He stood up, dwarfing the still seated council members. "I thank you for your cooperation and hard work today." He bowed his head slightly, as was proper, and then made his excuses.

His duties exhausted, Caspian left the hall.

He strode out down the corridor, eyes focussed directly in front of him. If there had been people in the corridor with him, he wouldn't have noticed them.

His eyes were already beginning to burn.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he ran up to his room before his energy failed him. He could feel a lump in his throat, making it hard for him to breathe properly.

Kicking the door open, and slamming it behind him, he threw his crown to the floor, tossing his sword under his bed, not caring about the noise it made.

His bed.

He stared for a second at the bed he'd shared with the girl he loved. Who'd been his first. Who he'd intended to be his only. His everything.

His face twisted in pain. He let himself crumple onto the bed, regardless of his boots and ceremonial jacket.

Curling into a ball, he buried his face into the pillow. A horrible, choking sound ripped itself from his throat, and he pulled himself away from the sheets.

They still smelled of her.

Caspian held his face in his hands. A broken sob jarred his shoulders. He folded back onto the bed, curled up into the foetal position.

She's gone she's gone she's gone

As he curled tighter in on himself, something in his pocket dug into his leg. His heart went cold as he pulled it out, already knowing what it was.

The small ring glittered in the candlelight. The ice in his heart turned to daggers, spearing his chest with a dozen icy lances of pain.

I never got to even ask her. The realisation hit him like a blow to the stomach.

His lip trembled, before a howl-like sound tore from his chest. He covered his head with his arms, drawing his chin to his chest, trying to stop the hot tears seeping out of his eyes.

"No… Susan… no," he whispered into the sheets.

~#~

"See you at the weekend, Su," said Ed, hugging his sister. He tried to somehow convey to her how sorry he was, sorry that she'd lost Caspian, sorry that she wasn't going back to Narnia, sorry that he would be able to go back. Her arms tightened around him, and somehow he got the feeling that she knew, and wasn't angry at him.

Peter ruffled Lucy's hair as the middle Pevensies hugged. "Look after yourself, kiddo."

He then turned to his other sister. He folded her up in his arms. "Love you, Su."

Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wish I could change things. I'm sorry.

Susan felt what he was thinking like she often did. She nodded against his shoulder.

"Love you too, Pete. Try not to get into any fights."

I'm sorry too.

He pulled back. "I'll do my best."

"Bye, Pete." Susan hated how flat her voice was.

Peter had never seen the expression that lay on Susan's face before, and he hoped to god she never had to endure the pain that created it again.

The four Pevensies split onto the separate buses for their schools.

Susan was alone.

~#~

Caspian didn't care if he was being unmanly. There was a large damp patch on the bed from where he'd been crying.

A knock sounded at the door.

He ignored it.

"My king?" It was the Professor.

"Go away," Caspian yelled, suddenly angry. "I want to be left alone!"

Possessed by a sudden fury, he sat up straight and started ripping the stupid jacket off. He never wanted to see these clothes ever again, he never wanted to have to remember this awful day, he never wanted it to have existed. He kicked his boots all the over to the balcony door, and stripped off the trousers he'd had on, swapping them for a pair of sleeping trousers on the floor. He hadn't had to wear them in days.

It is not fair.

~#~

The moonlight streamed through the windows, lighting a strip of wall and ceiling, shining onto Susan's face. The other girls in the dormitory were all asleep, but the Gentle Queen – for that was who she was, no matter her location, she was Narnian wherever she went – was wide awake.

Is that the same moon that shone on me last night as I stood on his balcony, wrapped in his shirt? Different stars shine on us now. This moon is cruel, cold. Like this world is now without him.

Susan lay in her single bed with its hospital corner sheets, surrounded by girls she barely knew, nor wanted to, wrapped in an English nightgown, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling, wishing desperately to be in a large Narnian bed, under soft linen, wrapped up only in her Telmarine's arms under the high stone ceilings of his castle.

Kept company by the soft breathing of the schoolgirls around her who had no idea of what it was like inside Susan's head, she started to cry, trying to smother her sobs into her fist.

The moonlight caught the tears on her face, making them shine in the false light that the moon only reflected. A poor man's sun. A poor man's life.

She turned on her side, burying her face into the pillow.

"Caspian," she sobbed silently, and only once.

~#~

Caspian lay in the sheets that still smelled of Susan, on the mattress that still had a dip from their combined weight, staring up at the ceiling. Outside, it was raining, the droplets hitting the windows. The percussive sound drummed against his ears. He felt like he was drowning.

The Professor had once taught him that there was no such thing as new water, that the same water that fell on him had also fallen on his ancestors, being recycled over and over in an eternal cycle.

The rain that fell on Susan now would not be his rain. It rained in England, even in the summer, didn't it? She'd said so. Another way in which their worlds were so different.

Another way in which they were separated.

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, watching the patterns the candle light made on the stone in the flickering shadows from the rain.

And now I consign myself to a life of shadows, he thought, curling into a ball on his side.

He still had the ring in his hand.

"I will always love you."

Somehow, across the universe, Susan whispered the exact same words at the exact same time, her hand fisting around the sheets.

Separated by worlds, but still bonded forever in soul, Susan and Caspian lay in their lone beds, their hearts each beating half of an inexorable rhythm that would only stop when both of them were gone.


	18. Smile Like You Mean It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> into the early days of the Lower Sixth with this
> 
> oooohhhh
> 
> remember the time when I had a boyfriend
> 
> wow
> 
> STILL retroactive

The grey dawn crept in through the windows into the high-ceilinged room, drenching the stone in dim light.

Caspian shifted in his sleep, rolling so that his face was tilted into the faint rays. His face screwed up, before his eyes opened.

His reflex was to curl his arms tight around –

He sat bolt upright in bed. Where was Susan? Why wasn't she in his arms?

It came back to him in a horrible rush, like the wave of nausea that came with a bad hangover.

He had to fight the urge to howl like the animal he surely had been reduced to.

~#~

The dressing bell woke Susan like a bucket of icy water to the face. All around her, girls rose from their beds, their forms silhouetted on their cubicle curtains.

Susan sat up faster than she had gotten up in days. The bed felt wrong. Cold. Empty.

She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying as she began to dress.

~#~

"Good morning, your highness." A courtier bowed to him as he walked down the corridor to the great hall.

Caspian nodded, unable to speak. He felt sure that if he did, all that would come out would be a croak.

"My liege," said one of the guards at the door to the council chamber as he walked inside.

"Caspian!" cried the Professor, who was one of three councillors already present in their seats. He stood up, toddling over to his former pupil. "You were not present at breakfast, are you unwell?"

Caspian swallowed thickly. "I was not hungry, Professor."

~#~

"Miss Pevensie!" rapped out a sharp voice. Susan looked up from her buckled shoes, stopping in her tracks as she walked down the corridor.

"Yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied the teacher acidly.

"Sorry, ma'am," she checked herself. She'd forgotten that she wasn't in a position of superiority any more.

Her fingers clenched at her side as she willed away the pain inside her.

The tall, bony woman sniffed. "Miss Pevensie, would you care to explain why you are not with the rest of your form?"

Because they think I'm a weirdo.

Because they don't like me very much.

Because none of them will ever understand.

Instead of the truth, Susan settled for a stock answer. "I don't know ma'am."

"Kindly ensure it doesn't happen again."

Susan took a second to regain her composure, before quickly walking down to the room where her class were now.

Head held high, she pushed open the door, and walked calmly into the classroom. She tried not to notice how the entirety of the form were all in little groups, and sat down at her desk.

She'd never been more sure that she belonged in Narnia.

~#~

Caspian had become a creature of the dark. He slept little, taking to prowling the castle and its grounds at night. He maintained a façade for his people and for the court, but otherwise he was a shell of himself.

It had been a month and a half. The pain still lingered, worsening and fading dependent on his level of occupation, but it was always present. Always with him, reminding him of what would never be with him again.

His dreams were fitful bursts of memory tainted by the knowledge, even in sleep, that they were only that: memory.

If he hadn't had his job to concentrate on, Aslan alone knew what he'd have done.

~#~

The Professor was one of the few who knew the extent of the young king's distraction. He'd tried on several occasions to talk to Caspian, but after the last rebuttal, he'd seen that the heartbroken teenager needed time to recover.

That said, Caspian's behaviour was becoming more and more concerning. He rarely spoke when in a personal capacity, much less laughed or even smiled. His face was either a mask for the court, or a horrible, hollow expression of such untold pain that the Professor could hardly bear it.

They were in the midst of a council meeting when the old man knew he had to do something.

"My king?" asked Falatian, clearing his throat as the King failed to respond to him.

Caspian's head had lolled onto his hand. Suddenly he sat bolt upright, blinking rapidly.

"I apologise," he said in a sleep-tinged, thick voice. "I am very tired."

The advisors around the table looked at each other, then back at the dark eyed, thin-faced King at the head of it.

"Perhaps we should adjourn this meeting until tomorrow – when your highness is more …" one of the men trailed off.

Caspian opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it. He had, quite evidently, given up.

The advisors shuffled to their feet and left the room in a shambolic procession. Only Caspian and the Professor were left.

The Noble Telmarine inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes. Then he buried his face in his hand, his eyes screwing up behind his loosely clenched fingers.

"I am a wreck, am I not," he said quietly. His voice was husky from lack of use.

The bearded scholar looked down at the young man in front of him. His heart almost broke for the sight of his old charge so bereft.

"My king," he said softly, his Telmarine accent the only match for Caspian's in a court full of Narnians. "This is not the Caspian I brought up. This is a terrible shell of that strong, proud, kind boy with his head in the clouds but his heart with the people."

"But what am I without her?" he whispered. "It is like my entire heart is gone, ripped away."

"I know, but you have to do what is best for your country, my King. Let them fill your heart's emptiness."

He reached down to lightly clasp the King's shoulder.

"Do it for yourself, Caspian X of Narnia and Telmar."

~#~

Susan, meanwhile, had returned to a character similar to who she'd been before they'd left for Narnia the second time. Cool, aloof, alone – only this time, she was empty inside, utterly bereft of the hope of returning to the place she considered her home.

Her teachers had expressed some concern about her amongst themselves, even considering writing home to her parents. It couldn't be normal how lifeless she seemed. The only people she ever seemed to interact with on anything more than the most perfunctory of levels were her siblings, on exeat weekends, and two other girls in her year who also seemed as lonely as she was.

But they left it, assuming it was a phase she'd grow out of.

~#~

"Would you look at yourself?" Caspian asked himself, staring in the glass that hung in his room. His face had grown thin, his high cheekbones jutting out. His eyes were underscored by twin rings of deep purple.

He looked as terrible as he felt.

"You have a duty to your people, and to yourself, to be the best King you can possibly be. You owe it to your father… and to the Pevensies. Do it for them if not for yourself."

He took a deep breath, then looked right at his reflection's eyes. He had to accept the facts. It was high time he sorted himself out, at least so that he could function properly.

Although it felt like it would kill him to say it, he opened his mouth to speak.

"She's gone."

~#~

And so it came to pass that Caspian X of Narnia moved on with his life.

Or, at least, so it seemed.

He was very good at seeming normal. Very good indeed; so good, in fact, that most of the time he convinced himself that he was okay.

His moods stabilised, in general. He devoted himself to his role as king – a role that he truly loved, for it allowed him to serve the people and land that he so cared for. And with that devotion, came a sort of contentment.

It wasn't perfect, obviously, but it would do. He had a sort of happiness that came from having a goal to aim for – he wanted to do his father (and the Pevensies, although he wouldn't admit it often) proud. And so his people gained a king whose temperament made him fair, generous and above all wise beyond his years.

He hadn't lost his passion, either. He was growing famous as the King of Hearts and Minds – for he ruled with an equal measure of both, never doing something that he didn't believe in or that he could not back up with rationale.

It was an altogether different young man who sat on the throne than the one who had been rescued while in his pyjamas in the woods, and yet the same. He was just as fiery and principled as he had been when he'd first fought for Narnia, but he was more level-headed and calmer when the occasion demanded it.

He'd gotten his logic from Susan.

So, to all intents and purposes, the Narnians had the best possible man on their throne. He, to them, was perfect.

However, he was still young, still learning. He wouldn't show his people when he had doubts, but he would consult one of the handful of people who he trusted more than anyone else: Reepicheep, the Professor, Trufflehunter, and Andrew, a Narnian man of about his age who'd grown up in hiding in the forests. With this team, plus an elected council of advisors, Caspian was stood in excellent stead as ruler of a new Narnia.

But he was still alone in his heart.

~#~

"I don't get it, what is it about rebuilding that castle that's so important to him? He's never even been there!" exclaimed Andrew, walking down the corridor with Reepicheep. They'd just come from a meeting with Caspian – a meeting when the King of four months had stated his desire to rebuild Cair Paravel.

Andrew didn't get it. He, as a native Narnian, understood the powerful symbol that the palace was, but he didn't understand the unfamiliar light that had burned in Caspian's eyes. He hadn't seen the young Telmarine that animated about something since … well, since ever.

"That's a question you'd have to ask the King himself. It is not mine to answer."

The Narnian man looked down at the mouse. "I thought we were an open court, one without intrigue?" Those had been Caspian's very words as he had rewritten the oppressive Telmarine constitution.

"That we are, young Andrew, but one should not reveal secrets that are not his to share."

~#~

Andrew watched his friend. He'd been with Caspian since the Dancing Lawns: he'd known, somehow, that this boy in his pyjamas with his strong accent would be the one to save Narnia, regardless of origin. He'd been there at the How when the Kings and Queens first arrived; he'd been part of the attack on the castle he now called home; and he'd fought in Caspian's cavalry. He trusted his King with his life.

And Caspian trusted him too. He had been the emissary that he'd sent to the borders, to Archenland, to Calormen, to spread the word of the new Narnia that was to come, and of the Noble Telmarine on the throne.

So it was with some concern that Andrew decided to broach several topics he'd wanted to for a while.

"Caspian, what is it about Cair Paravel that makes you want to rebuild it so much?" he asked, pretending to read one of the books on the library table.

Almost imperceptibly, his facial expression shifted. "I think it would be a good gesture of goodwill to the Narnians. Besides, it was the traditional seat of the Narnian throne," he said in a perfectly normal voice. Too normal.

"And?"

Caspian picked up his head from the table where it had been resting. "You know me too well."

"That doesn't answer my question." Andrew knew he could get away with quite a lot in terms of breaking formalities with Caspian.

The Telmarine laid his head back down, and sighed. "It was the Kings and Queens of Old's home."

Andrew processed this. If there were two ideals in Caspian's head, they were his father and the Kings and Queens of Old. However, that still didn't explain everything.

He changed tack. "When I came back after visiting the borders, you were… different. And I don't mean that you were King of Narnia as opposed to a Telmarine Prince on the run."

Caspian closed his eyes. He looked very tired. "What do you mean then, Andrew?"

"I'm going to be very blunt here. What happened when I was gone?"

The King's face had gone quite pale under his tan. He was silent for a long time. Andrew was about to press him, when he opened his mouth to speak.

"Susan."

Andrew had not heard Caspian say the name in months. The timbre of his voice was off.

"That kiss in the courtyard -" The Telmarine looked up at him. "Of course I heard about it, Cas, the entire Guard saw it. You know how soldiers gossip."

Caspian laughed once, although it sounded painful.

"But anyway, that kiss – you can't be cut up about that still."

Caspian shook his head slowly. Andrew felt an icy chill trickle down his back.

"So you fancied her? And it took that long to get over her?"

"No." His voice was so soft as to be barely audible. "I fell in love with Susan."

Fuck.

"Oh, Aslan. Caspian, I'm sorry."

But Caspian didn't appear to hear him.

"I fell in love with her and she is gone forever. She is back in England a million miles away and I will never see her again." His voice was quiet. Flat.

"Did she - ?" Andrew trailed off, knowing that Caspian would understand what he was asking.

He nodded. "She would have been my queen," he sighed. "But now she is gone and will never be mine." His accent had gotten stronger.

Andrew reached out a hand to squeeze Caspian's shoulder reassuringly. "You didn't know her very long, at least – less time for you to get invested."

"It was enough time for that, believe me," the Telmarine mumbled. Andrew leaned back a second to look at his face. There was something slightly different in his voice.

"Oh." Realisation dawned on him. "You – ?"

"If you are trying to ask if I had carnal knowledge of her, then yes, I did." He looked up at Andrew. "Are you shocked?"

Andrew did not want to upset Caspian any further, but he was a little. The Telmarine was his age, but he was a King and as such had certain strictures applying to him. Then again, in the time he had known him, Andrew had swiftly learnt that Caspian was not always a lover of rules. It didn't entirely surprise him that he had slept with Susan – the word 'passionate' went hand in hand with everything about the current King of Narnia.

Caspian took his hesitation as confirmation, and went on. "You might think it improper, but hear this: what Susan and I shared was a consummation of love, and love alone. I do not feel any shame for giving her my virtue. I feel only gladness that I did; the only regret I have is that I have taken hers when she is no longer mine to make love to. But it was right and no one will ever tell me otherwise." He stood up and walked to the window.

"No one."

~#~

Susan's parents, by half term, seeing their eldest daughter's lack of… of anything, really, unless her siblings were around, made a decision. They were going to take her to America for a bit, while Peter studied for his university entrance exams. She'd stay with her cousin, go to some dances, make a few friends. She'd have a whale of a time.

Susan made no protest. Why would she?

~#~

"That room on the second floor near yours; the one with the ice blue silk sheets – it's lain empty for the entire time you've been King," said Andrew as he finished a meeting with Caspian.

"Not strictly true," mumbled Caspian.

"Whose room was it?"

Andrew watched as his friend's face fell. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat as he swallowed. Then he finally spoke.

"That's Susan's room." He still used the present tense – for him, everything to do with Susan was still an open, raw, festering wound. Probably always would be.

"Oh."

Caspian's face was a mask of pain. Andrew didn't know what to do.

"What about her room?" he asked, his long hair falling in curtains around his downturned face.

Andrew felt a prickle of unease at the base of his spine, but decided to go on with what he had to say.

"I was going to say, maybe it needs to be opened up: it is one of the main state rooms, after all. The staff say it hasn't even been cleaned since it was last used. I think it could do with a tidy and clean up job, you know how good the staff are at rejuvenating a room…" he trailed off.

He chanced a look at Caspian, whose face was empty. Completely and utterly blank. Fear once again prickled at his spine, but this time the shiver ran all the way up and down his back.

When Caspian spoke, his voice was very quiet.

"It stays as it is."

"But-"

"Did you not hear me?" the King asked coldly, the sound chilling the adviser's bones to the marrow.

Caspian's voice was deadly calm. His eyes were hard and dark enough as to be black – deepest, pitch black. His lip was curled in an aspect that he'd previously saved for hated enemies.

Andrew had never feared Caspian before now. But right at this moment, he was terrified out of his wits.

"That room stays. As. It. Is."

And he swept away.


	19. The Boy With A Thorn In His Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snarky reviewer didn't like my characterisation of Dasha
> 
> snarky reviewer made me sad
> 
> i hope you don't like her character but not her characterisation
> 
> they're different
> 
> yeah
> 
> retro postin'

The whispers had begun to circle the kingdom. Their new king had only been on the throne for two years, but the people worried. Not about his method of rule – for Caspian was swiftly becoming one of the greatest monarchs Narnia had ever known – nor about his heritage; despite his appearance, it had become clear that the Noble Telmarine was as much a Narnian as any of them. Even his Telmarine accent was fading.

They were worried about his lack of a wife. With no wife, came no heir. And with no heir, came chaos.

Caspian knew this. However, it didn't mean that he liked it.

~#~

"Now wouldya take a look at that specimen," exclaimed Dorothea, looking over the top of her sunglasses at a young man in a uniform.

Susan ignored her. "Frightfully hot, isn't it?" she asked, trying to deflect her American cousin's constant attempts to get her to show some interest in the males around her.

"Oh, gee, Su, why d'you never react to beauty?" asked Dorothea in exasperation.

"I react to beauty when I see it," replied Susan coolly, returning to her book. "And don't even think about getting him over here to talk to me, Dot."

Her cousin huffed and folded her arms. "You're no fun."

If there was one thing Susan hated about America, it was being presented to men.

~#~

Caspian tripped lightly down the steps at the front of the castle. He had to greet the visitors – a deputation from Calormen – and while many monarchs would have insisted on receiving the guests in a traditional, formal manner, Caspian saw no problem whatsoever with greeting them as he was doing so: leaping down the steps to meet their carriage.

"Your majesty," bowed the ambassador, who was first out of the door. "I am Labrascar, the Tisroc's Narnian ambassador." To his credit, he showed no reaction to Caspian's understated greeting.

Caspian put out his hand to shake it. "Welcome to Cair Paravel, Labrascar."

Behind him, two ladies stepped out of the carriage, giggling.

Oh, dear Aslan.

"May I present Dasha, daughter of the Tisroc, and Lady Alisha, her lady in waiting."

Caspian bowed. "Welcome to Cair Paravel, ladies. I hope that you will find Narnia as pleasant a place to stay as I am told it is." His lips quirked slightly.

The two females in front of him curtseyed. "Your majesty," they each said, although Lady Alisha's was much more deferential.

"Now, if you'd like to follow me, I can show you where you will be staying during your time in Narnia." He turned to move back up the steps. The Calormenes followed him.

"I'm afraid it has been a long time since Cair Paravel has played host to a Calormen delegation," said Caspian, as he led the three foreigners down a hall.

"I am told it has been a long time since Cair Paravel has played host to anything whatsoever," commented Labrascar. "Wasn't it destroyed in the original Telmarine War?"

"Indeed it was. You are the first foreigners to visit since the rebuild was finished." Caspian started to walk quickly up the stairs, his boots making a comforting sound against the marble. He loved the castle dearly; it felt more like a home to him than the Telmarine one ever had.

At the top of the stairs, he led the Calormenes to one of the state corridors. "I hope that the quarters are to your liking; dinner is served at seven. Feel free to explore the castle and its grounds." He smiled genuinely, then left them.

~#~

Caspian prided himself on his ability to be polite to anyone, regardless of whether they were friend or foe… or just fucking annoying.

However, he was being sorely tested by the second course at dinner that evening. Labrascar was perfectly pleasant, and Lady Alisha, though she spoke little, seemed lovely. However, the same could not be said of their superior.

She was the kind of girl that his aunt had warned him about. He believed that the common term was a slut. She had done nothing but flirt with Caspian, not overtly enough to cause offence, but enough to have Labrascar's features locked in an expression of pained embarrassment.

Caspian had endured questions about himself, the castle, the country, all of which seemed designed to lead him towards something that he didn't want to think about. He hated judging people that he hadn't known very long, but this girl brought bile rising to the back of his throat with every girlish giggle and suggestive comment.

Dasha smiled flirtatiously, toying with an artfully curled loose lock of hair. "There are stories, my king, that say Narnia can only be stable if a son of Adam is on the throne."

"I am aware of the legend, and I was taught that you can always learn from stories." Caspian gestured around him, grinning. "Take what you will from what you see around you as to the confirmation of that particular one."

But the Calormen princess wasn't done yet. "But isn't there supposed to be more than one – a queen, as well?"

Caspian felt his stomach turn over, freeze, then drop to the bottom of his abdomen. He knew exactly what she was getting at. This girl wanted him as her own.

What's more, she was partially right, in his mind at least. He had envisioned ruling by a queen's side… but not any queen. His queen. His Susan.

"I mean, the Kings and Queens of Old – they all ruled together, and Narnia was much the stronger for it."

And you would know, seeing as your ancestor tried to make off with Susan for his own purposes, he thought snidely.

"The Kings and Queens of Old were a very special set of monarchs. They ruled together because they were the only people who could have lifted the spell of Jadis." Caspian had to work to keep his words flowing normally.

"But they came back, didn't they?"

Oh, yes. Yes they did.

"Yes. They were, in fact, my salvation." Not to mention my redemption, damnation and eternal torture.

"What were they like?" asked a softer voice. Lady Alisha.

Caspian's lips twisted up into a wry smile, despite himself. "They were everything the stories said, and more. Peter was brave, noble, and argumentative like a dwarf. Edmund was clever, wickedly funny, and damn near the best swordsman I've ever seen. Lucy was kind, generous, and endlessly trusting." He paused involuntarily. "And Susan… Susan was calm, intelligent and beautiful… not to mention a bloody good archer." He let his lips curve up as he remembered how he'd attempted to show off to her at the How, how he'd missed the pinecone she'd chosen by inches.

That damn pinecone.

"But they're gone now?" pressed Dasha, cutting through his bittersweet memories.

Caspian didn't give his voice the chance to shake by speaking in monosyllables. "Yes. Gone now."

"And so Narnia has no queen." The Calormene Princess eyed the Telmarine over the rim of her glass in what he assumed was meant to be an alluring look.

"Yes. Narnia has no queen."

His voice rang with finality.

~#~

Caspian had taken to walking the castle's upper galleries in the afternoons when he had nothing important to do. He had taken to Cair Paravel as if it had always been his home.

This afternoon in particular, he'd found himself in the high ceilinged hall whose long, glassless windows overlooked the vast sweep of the grounds. Elbow on the ledge, he stared out at the distant treeline.

The Calormen delegation wanted something very particular. It wasn't the trade accords that they'd been going over for the last three days.

It was a bloody royal marriage.

He sighed loudly, letting his head droop forward. He was really not in the mood for this.

The sound of someone walking towards him woke him from his semi reverie. He straightened up, while steeling himself: the footsteps were far too light to be anyone except a young woman.

He turned around, ready to greet the princess – but the formality choked in his throat as her lady in waiting approached.

"Hello, Lady Alisha," he said cheerfully now that he knew it wasn't her mistress. "Exploring?"

"Your majesty," she said deferentially. "And yes, just a little… if that is all right?"

"Of course it's all right! I didn't rebuild this place so that I could forbid people from exploring it," he laughed, trying not to think about why he had originally chosen to rebuild it.

Alisha smiled, then came to look out over the grounds as well. "I've never been to Narnia before."

"I hope it lives up to any expectations," he replied, grinning slightly.

"It does. I think I would quite like to spend more time here where it is a little less… dry."

Caspian laughed. Calormen had never appealed to him, all the heat and terracotta and patriarchy. "I can imagine that the climate is not always pleasant."

"Indeed not, I much prefer the Narnian one."

He nodded, then looked back out at the grounds. He felt oddly at ease with this young lady in waiting who couldn't be much more than his own age, an ease he could scarcely find around her charge.

"Forgive me for asking, your majesty – "

"You can just call me Caspian, you know. I cannot stand all the unnecessary fuss at the best of times, and certainly not when I am not on court business." He turned to look at her, his lips pulling up at one side.

Lady Alisha smiled. "You are very kind. Anyway, what I was about to ask – forgive me, but am I correct in that you are not originally Narnian?"

She looked fearful that he might be offended, but instead he smiled. "No, indeed, I am not. I am Telmarine in origin, although I have always considered myself more Narnian than my countrymen. I prefer the Narnian way of doing things. And it seemed destiny had a somewhat different idea for my future than being a Telmarine prince." His lips quirked slightly in an ironic smile. "And so here I am, in a Narnian castle, surrounded by talking animals and magic." Alisha laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"It's a beautiful palace."

"I cannot take any credit whatsoever for it. Not even the Kings and Queens of Old could do that, although they loved it enough that they might as well have built it with their own hands." He smiled slightly, looking down.

"I can see why, it's truly as magical as the stories say."

"Lucy would have liked to hear that," he said, snickering at the thought of the smug expression that would have painted the youngest Pevensie's round-cheeked face.

"Queen Lucy the Valiant?"

"That's the one. I would quite happily claim her as my own sibling… would do with her brothers as well. Though, I'd never tell Peter that." He sighed. "No chance to now, so I suppose it doesn't really matter."

"Will they never return, the Kings and Queens of Old?" she asked tentatively.

Caspian's eyes remained on the toes of his boots. "Lucy and Edmund will. I don't know when – it could well be another thousand years before they do."

"But King Peter and Queen Susan won't?"

He shook his head. "No. They will never return to Narnia. I have seen them both for the final time." He swallowed, hard, and blinked quickly to clear his eyes.

"You loved Queen Susan, didn't you?" she asked.

Caspian turned to face her. He examined her expression for any hidden agenda, but found none. She was what her superior lacked: she was caring.

"Yes, I did." He looked out over the grounds. "I loved her like I have never loved anything else."

"But now she's gone."

"Yes. Susan is gone, and I must, it seems, choose a wife who I do not love."

There was a moment of silence, then Alisha spoke up.

"Don't choose Dasha, then."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"Dasha would be hard enough to bear if you did love her. I think having to endure her without loving her would probably kill you."

Caspian laughed, before running his hand through his hair. "I daresay it probably would. How on earth do you put up with her?"

"Years and years of practice," she said wryly. "And besides, I don't have to spend much longer with her." Caspian raised an eyebrow. "I'm betrothed." Her eyes sparkled.

He smiled, genuinely. "I think that may be more than one blessing," he chuckled. "What's his name?"

"Jamir. He's a bookbinder." The smile on her face lit her entire countenance up. Caspian missed that sort of light.

"A noble profession, I fear we do not have enough of his craft in Narnia."

"You respect books… that's different," said the Calormene contemplatively.

Caspian stared at Alisha. "Do they not in Calormen?" He'd been brought up with the greatest of respect for literature – for that was how one learned, from books.

"They value them as assets. That's about it for your average Calormen royal. Jamir's lucky that the Tisroc's youngest brother loves to read, or else I think he'd have no roof over his head."

The young king tried to make sense of this. "I think more and more that my decision to steer clear of Dasha is a wise one," he said after a second. "I daresay I'd rather spend my days alone than with someone who doesn't understand the true value of books."

The laughter on Alisha's face died.

She put her hand on his arm. "Don't suffer in silence, Caspian. The world is mysterious and things may change for you in many ways."

Then she took her hand away. "I must get off, Dasha will probably be looking for me."

He laughed. "Wouldn't want to keep her waiting. It was good to talk to you, Alisha."

She smiled, then turned to leave.

"Oh, and Alisha?" She turned back. "Thank you. Really." His eyes showed his heartfelt emotions.

"I am glad to be a help, my King." And then she left.

~#~

Dinner for Caspian was incredibly uncomfortable.

He didn't like the way Dasha looked at him. It was predatory, and entirely unsettling.

It didn't help, of course, that she'd had herself buttoned into a dress so revealing that he swore to god it would have her stoned to death in her home country, her corset laced so tight that she was quite literally bursting out of it.

Caspian averted his eyes as she leaned towards him, twirling a glass of wine between her fingers in what he thought she must imagine to be a coquettish fashion. To him, however, it looked like the alcohol had rotted her brain into mush that could only support the basic motor functions, with the way the claret liquid was sloshing back and forth.

He snorted slightly, trying to disguise it as a cough when he felt several pairs of eyes on him.

Dasha, of course, was oblivious. "So," she said in the flirtatious manner that Caspian had grown to dread over the last few days, "

~#~

Caspian walked slowly down the corridor to his bedroom. All he wanted to do was sleep, preferably until the Calormenes had gone home.

He rolled his eyes as he thought of the Princess' behaviour at dinner. He wasn't shocked, but more quietly repulsed by it. He really didn't appreciate some royal slut – ha ha, he thought in an aside – throwing herself at him. If he hadn't been a gentleman, he would probably have told her in no uncertain terms exactly what she could do with her flirting – not to mention her obscene dress.

"Gah!" he exclaimed aloud. He really was not enjoying this visit at all.

And so it was a great comfort to know that his bed was in sight.

Yawning, he pushed open his bedroom door and stumbled in. He stumbled not from tiredness, but from the shock caused by a weird smell assaulting his nose.

Blinking slightly, he sniffed. Was that – incense?

The fuck is going on here, he thought to himself.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light – who the heck had bolted the shutters and drawn the drapes? As he refocused, he suddenly noticed something.

Someone.

"Dasha, what are you doing in here?" he asked as a kneejerk reaction, already knowing the answer in the pit of his stomach.

"Nothing…" purred the Calormene, "except waiting for you."

For a second, tumbleweed blew through Caspian's brain. Then…

Fuck.

Dasha unfurled her bare legs from the chair where she had been lounging, and stood up. Caspian had to prevent himself from doing a double take at her attire – what little of it there was. She had, for reasons that he was trying not to think about, dressed herself in a skirt so short that he personally would have called it a belt and a shawl draped around her upper arms which barely concealed the fact that she was in a corset - and a corset alone - on the top half.

"Dasha, I think you had a little too much wine at dinner. It's time you went to your chambers," he said quickly, as she came sashaying towards him.

"But my chambers do not have you within them, my Lord," she said, coming up close enough to him that he could smell the incense she actually stank of. She drew her finger up his chest. "Just you and me in your room… with such a big bed."

Caspian stepped back, repelled. "Dasha, this is improper. I think you should leave."

She tilted her head to one side. "Why on earth is it improper? After all, one day we will be married." She lingered on the final word, letting it roll around her mouth.

A burst of pure Telmarine anger rose in him. He struggled to keep it down.

"I don't know how you got that idea, your highness, because it is not going to happen."

Dasha looked as if she'd been slapped, then she regained herself. "You don't need to play hard-to-get with me, Caspian," she said, her smile ferine.

"I'm not playing anything. I am not marrying you. Quite how you managed to end up at that conclusion astounds me," he said, relying on humour to tamp down his flaring temper.

Her mouth hung open.

"I am not marrying you," he repeated.

"But – everyone wants me. Why don't you?" She curled her lip. "Do you bat for the other side, or something. That's the only explanation for you being able to resist me."

Caspian nearly laughed in her face. She had to be the most arrogant and self-obsessed person he'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

"Quite frankly, Dasha, I find you utterly repellent in every way imaginable."

The look on her face was priceless. Caspian, despite his anger, had to bite back a laugh.

"How – how dare you!" she exclaimed, cheeks flaming red. She drew her hand back to slap him, but he was too quick, catching her wrist.

"No, your highness," said Caspian very quietly. "How dare you." He held onto the Princess' wrist so she couldn't escape his eyes. Her face had become fearful underneath her scornful aspect.

He let go of her, feeling his lip curl. "Now get out of my room."

Dasha scrambled past him. When she reached the door, she turned back to face him. She opened her mouth.

Caspian pointed to the door, raising his voice for the first time. "Out!"

She slunk off.

The door slammed behind her. Caspian stared at it, unable to decide whether to throw something or to start laughing.

Shaking his head slightly, he backed up to his bed until the edge of it hit the backs of his knees. He allowed his legs to crumple so that he fell back onto the sheets.

For a very long time, King Caspian of Narnia and Telmar stared at the ceiling.

~#~

Caspian walked down to the front steps to see off the delegation.

"It has been a pleasure having you in Narnia, ladies, sir," he said formally.

Dasha tipped her nose in the air. "It has been pleasant." She held her hand out as if deigning to do some hideous menial task.

Caspian, barely able to hide a smile, took the hand and kissed it as tradition demanded. "My best wishes to your father."

The Tisroc's daughter made an incomprehensible sound, and flounced over to the carriage.

Not so much the lady now, is she? thought Caspian wickedly, before turning to the ambassador, whose face wore a pained expression.

"I must apologise for her Highness' behaviour."

Caspian held up a hand. "Forget about it."

"I do believe she was expecting a slightly different outcome…" trailed off Labrascar, not meeting his eyes.

The Narnian king's eyes hardened momentarily, before he replied. "Yes, I do believe so. However, that outcome is one the Tisroc will not see." He held the Calormene's gaze.

Labrascar nodded, then swept himself up into a formal bow. Caspian returned the gesture, raising a hand as the ambassador trotted over to the carriage.

Alisha made to follow him.

"It has been an experience," called Caspian, unable to resist the slight jibe. The ambassador nodded in thanks.

"Oh, and when you're married, Alisha, you and your husband are welcome any time here."

The Calormene lady smiled widely. "Thank you, Caspian. I'm sure I'll take you up on that offer; Jamir's never been to Narnia."

"Then I look forward to having you as guests again soon," Caspian grinned.

Dasha's imperious – and dare he say it, sulky – voice rang out of the carriage's open door. "Hurry along Alisha, I want to go home."

Alisha waved, then curtsied. He laughed, then watched the young lady in waiting skip into the carriage, before it pulled away.

The carriage had hardly left the gates before he collapsed against the wall laughing.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, practically crying with mirth, before Glenstorm trotted past.

"My King, may I ask what you are doing?" he enquired in his deep, measured voice.

Caspian snickered to himself, then drew himself up. "I am, my dear Glenstorm, as the saying goes, pissing myself laughing."

~#~

He was sitting at the dinner table talking to the Professor when Emile, his young captain of the guard and good friend decided to speak up.

"No marriage coming then, Cas?" he asked, glass of wine balanced in his hand.

Caspian's face froze in its attitude of good humour for a second. His mouth shifted from a broad smile to a harsh line. All the colour dropped right out of his expression, landing in a puddle on the floor along with his stomach.

"There will be no marriages," he stated in a voice like stone.

The entire table went very quiet. Emile had gone completely still, realising his error.

Caspian stood up abruptly. "Please excuse me."

And he swept from the room.

~#~

Caspian stared out of the window in the library, watching the clouds empty themselves on the lands around Cair Paravel . He had found himself both hating and loving the rain for being a symbol of what he'd lost, but once held close.

"This is a madness indeed," he muttered bitterly.

But he'd always been mad for her, he knew that. The only thing that made it inacceptable now was that the object of his madness was unreachable, lost in the world she'd come from, the world which he'd never seen. It didn't seem fair that she'd visited his world, but he couldn't visit her in her own.

Then again, what was fair any more?

"My king?" asked a voice in the tentative tone Caspian had grown used to when he was in one of his abstractions.

That should probably worry me.

"What, Andrew?" He didn't bother turning around from his position by the window. "Have the kitchen staff found a beetle in the soup?" he asked, poking fun at Andrew's habit of overreacting to everything. He wasn't sure if he meant it in jest or jibe.

Andrew bit back what he'd have said to Caspian if he'd been in his normal good humour. As it was, the King had fallen into one of his moods – a mood, in fact, that Peter Pevensie's temper would have bowed down to and accepted inferiority.

"The delegation from Calormen…" he trailed off. Normally, he was good at dealing with the King – normally, Caspian was a perfectly pleasant person to deal with, if not the most pleasant person to deal with. However, whenever he got into this state, there was no reasoning with him.

"What about it?" the tall man replied, pretending to examine a letter in his hand. In fact, he'd read it and had sent the reply off already.

"I do believe… I do believe that relations with Calormen may be a little harder now."

"What, because I've put the Tisroc's nose out of joint because I saw right through his slut of a daughter?" Caspian snorted. "Come on, Andrew, it's nothing that they won't get over. It's not like I said what I thought of her – because then we would be looking at war, with the words I had in mind." He looked at his adviser. "What is it you're really coming here to say? Because you and I both know that it would take a lot more than not falling for Dasha's charms to get the Tisroc to cut off the peace treaties that keep him safe in his terracotta palace." His voice was extremely cutting.

Andrew swallowed. His friend was in a dangerous mood.

"The kingdom worries, Caspian."

"What do they worry, Andrew?" retorted the king of Narnia.

"… My King, it is time you thought about a wife."

The piece of paper in Caspian's hand made a sound of protest as his fingers clenched around it.

"And if I don't agree?"

"Caspian, listen to me. You need an heir."

"I am very well aware of what I need, Andrew. That doesn't mean I have to like it." The young King picked up a book, weighing it in his hand as he spoke in a deliberately detached manner, avoiding Andrew's eyes.

"You have a duty –"

Caspian spun around. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I'm not aware of what my title means?"

"No, I –"

"Do you think I don't know what life I will have to confine myself to in order to do that very duty?"

His friend was quiet for a minute as he assessed his King's words, before he spoke again. "There is no reason for you not to find happiness – "

"There is every reason." Caspian's voice had taken on that dangerous tone that meant he was about to have one of his outbursts of temper. "I will not love again."

Andrew stopped to think. "I am sure you will find someone who you can hold dear – "

"Hold dear, how exciting," he snapped. "How utterly fulfilling."

"Look, I know you lost her, and I'm so sorry for that, but she's gone. You have to find someone else now. There's no reason why you can't love again." Andrew was soothing, trying to help. He hated to see his friend, his King like this. "You can find someone, someone lovely, and perfect, who you'll love and cherish and dote on. You can marry her. And then you can have a family, isn't that what you want? An heir for the kingdom, and children to love and protect?"

Caspian had frozen at the mention of her. His blood turned to ice within his veins. And then it burned as it hadn't in a very long time.

"No, Andrew. I don't want any of it," he said in so quiet a voice that for a moment the other man was struck dumb for a second.

"Caspian," Andrew started, but he stopped as he saw the look of fury in the Telmarine's mahogany eyes.

"I don't want ANY of it, do you hear me?" he yelled, slamming the book down. "I don't want anything."

He turned on his heel, looking out of the window. He rested his forehead against the glass, looking out at the sodden grounds.

"She's gone, but I still feel her here every single moment of every day." He held his hand over his heart. "How is that fair? That something so perfect can have taken away my happiness? Where is the sense in that?"

He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes haunted – too haunted for one so young. "Tell me, Andrew, where is the sense?"

Caspian moved his forehead back to the glass of the window.

"Then again, where is the sense in finding a fairytale queen?"

His friend was silent.

"There's no sense in believing in any love at all after losing what I did." Caspian faced him, eyes hard. "The fairy tale is over."

And with that, he strode out of the library.


	20. Modern Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now my writing style evolves more because this was written in august or something ridic like that
> 
> yay for the summer of 2012 and all the books I read
> 
> retro posting obviously

"I swear to God, Dorothea, if you make me wear that dress, I'll bloody kill you with your own damn shoe," growled Susan.

"Oh, come on, Su, don't be that way! Your mom will be so pleased if you wear it, it's the latest thing out here!" Her cousin looked at her pleadingly, holding out the dress. "Please?"

Susan turned her face to the ceiling, clawing at thin air. "Fine! Fine! Dress me up for a bunch of men who I don't know!"

Or have any interest in whatsoever, she added in her head as Dorothea squealed happily.

~#~

"There!" Caspian slammed down a map on the table. "There is where I want to go."

The members of the royal council clustered around the parchment to see where their King's finger was stabbing.

"The Lone Islands, my Lord?" asked Falatian tentatively.

"My father had seven Lords – seven Lords of Narnia - with whom he would have trusted his life. They were banished by my uncle many years ago – banished to the Lone Islands. I intend to find them."

"When you say 'I', my liege – " began Coperinian, another advisor, his hand nervously touching his neatly trimmed steel-grey beard.

"I mean myself. I will take a ship out to the Lone Islands and attempt to find my father's Lords."

"Sire – "

Caspian straightened up from the map to face his council. "My father relied on these men. I trust in his judgement. As such, it is my duty to attempt to find and honour the men who I believe may well be instrumental in furthering Narnia's development."

"But sire – "

"Let me guess, it's too dangerous. Or I am shirking my responsibility." He eyed his advisors. "I know how to handle myself and I am hardly inexperienced in warfare. As for responsibility, I believe this voyage will only take six to eight months. I have set up a plan for the next year already, and I will leave Trumpkin, Trufflehunter and the Professor in charge while I am gone to deal with day to day eventualities. The kingdom is not going to fall apart because their king is taking on one of his other responsibilities. Finally, there are ways of communicating that I am sure will be available to us if need be."

He lowered his voice. "Narnia is stable again, now. This is my duty. I will go regardless of your opinion, but I would like your approval nonetheless."

King Caspian of Narnia and Telmar smiled winningly. His advisors looked at each other, and then sighed. Who were they to resist?

"Excellent," he grinned.

~#~

Susan scuffed her toe against the tiled floor outside the ballroom, not caring about the marks the terracotta would make on the satin. She had no desire to be here.

"Susan, come on!" her mother hissed. Rolling her eyes, she slumped over.

"I do wish I knew what was wrong with you," she said, sadly. Susan just stared at the floor. As far as Susan was concerned, there was nothing wrong except this stupid dance.

"I just don't want to be here," she said quietly. She did a lot of things quietly these days.

"Why not? Don't you want to meet a nice boy?"

Susan didn't reply, sweeping past her mother to where she had spotted her father.

"That, mother," she mumbled, "is the last thing I want to do."

~#~

He liked the sea. It soothed him, feeling the gentle rocking of the ship beneath his feet and the wind in his hair.

They were partway to the Lone Islands. They'd been at sea for a few months, and he was enjoying himself greatly. The sailors were down to earth sorts, which he appreciated: he liked to feel grounded, even if he was on sea legs.

He'd earned large tallies of brownie points within the first week of the voyage by taking part in the running of the ship: he had surprised the captain, Drinian, when he'd piled in with rigging the sails.

"Don't stare so, Drinian, the wind will change and your face will get stuck like that," he had quipped as the man stared dumbfounded at his king standing in his shirt sleeves.

The men seemed to like him, possibly because he always had an ear for them, and possibly because he knew not to take himself too seriously.

Frankly, Caspian was having a laugh.

His task was never far from his mind, though, and that satisfied him: he liked to have a purpose. It made him feel like he was doing the right thing as King.

~#~

"Hello," came a voice from behind her.

Susan was sat at the bar with a drink placed on the dark wood by her hand. She turned around.

A young man of about nineteen was stood in front of her. He was very nicely turned out, in a blazer and dark trousers.

"Hello," she said politely.

"I was going to ask if you wanted a drink, but I see you've already got one," he smiled, his teeth gleaming white in the lights. What was it with these Americans and their dentistry?

"I'm afraid so," she replied.

"Well, that's a shame." His smile was infectious: and she needed to smile, she hadn't done so in a long time. "What's your name?"

"Susan," she smiled slightly.

~#~

He had to say, it was a little bit of a surprise to see the two youngest Pevensies again so soon. It was somewhat more of a surprise to have pulled them out of the ocean, but he had come to the throne aided and abetted by a talking badger and a minotaur, so who was he to talk about inexplicabilities?

It was nice to see them again.

He led them into the cabin, and began to explain the plan.

The two Pevensies were struck by the change that had been wrought in Caspian: the King with his beard and weirdly English accent standing before them was worlds away from the callow prince they first met wandering around the woods in his pyjamas. And yet, Edmund thought to himself, there's still something of that teenage boy in him. Some of that innocence.

How ironic.

"And have you found a queen in those three years?" Lucy asked in that adorably tactless way she had. Behind the youngest Pevensie stood her brother, his eyes fixed on Caspian's face, and he knew that the young King in front of him understood exactly his unspoken question.

"No. Not one to compare to your sister," he managed to laugh.

They both knew exactly what was going on in the new King's mind.

~#~

The boy at the bar's name was Steve. Steve Roberts. He was a first year college student: he wanted to be a doctor. He was friendly and polite and almost excessively intelligent, so much so that she had to tell him, laughing, that she would have to get back to him on some of that, once she'd found her dictionary.

Susan found that she liked talking to him, and in the end gave him her telephone number so that he might call on her at some point.

After all, it had been a while since she'd had a friend to talk to.

~#~

The star that appeared before them on Ramandu's Island shocked the life out of him. He had rarely seen such a woman.

"You are most beautiful," he said, without thinking.

He realised that was the first time he'd looked at another woman since Susan.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

~#~

Steve kept coming to see her.

He was a lovely boy, she couldn't dispute that. He was kind and funny and sweet. But the simple fact was this: she felt nothing for him in that way.

She hated having to break his heart, but in the end she asked him to stop bringing her flowers.

It all felt false, somehow.

~#~

Caspian rowed back to the Dawn Treader, the sound of the oars his only companion. The sea seemed very empty all of a sudden.

He let the sailors pull him up on deck, quietly thanked them, briefly explained what had happened, and then made his way to his cabin.

The book of fairy tales that Lucy had been reading was still on the bedside table.

He sat down heavily on the bed, reaching across to pick up the tome, weighing it in his hand. He would miss Lucy's sweet and endlessly kind nature. He would miss Ed's sharp wit and vim.

He would miss the only people he'd ever considered siblings.

He felt a great yawning silence in his soul.

For a long time, he lay back on his bed, staring up at the wooden planks above his head.

He was beginning to detect a theme here.

He was alone.

~#~

Susan had been home from America a month when her two youngest siblings came crashing in the door. Peter was making a visit from the Professor's house, where he was holed up preparing for his university interviews.

"We went back!" Lucy practically screamed.

Susan thought she probably should be jealous, but it had been a long time since she'd felt any extreme or strong emotion. In fact, she was quite glad that they'd had another adventure.

Peter and Susan listened with rapt attention as their siblings regaled them with their tales of the high seas, of dragons and treasure and lost lords and –

"Eustace?!" exclaimed Peter. "That little prig?"

"He's not so much of a little prig now," said Lucy. "Narnia had quite an effect on him."

"Being turned into a dragon will do that to a person," commented Ed sardonically.

Susan remained quiet, simply soaking up the stories of the land she missed so much.

"Caspian's quite the king now," said Edmund carefully. "Beard and Narnian accent and all. And, by god, he knows how to get a crowd going."

"He always was an orator." Peter's voice was quiet and respectful.

Susan said nothing.

A small flower of pride bloomed inside her, although she tamped it down.

Ed wisely changed the subject.

After all the cavalcade was over, and the four reunited Pevensies had quietened, Lucy leant over to her elder sister.

"He asked about you," she said simply.

Susan's eyes widened reflexively. She felt her breath choke in her throat. Her heart quickened as if someone had just given her an adrenaline shot straight to the chest.

She turned to stare at her sister, face conveying the words she couldn't articulate.

"He hasn't forgotten you."

"I don't think he ever will," murmured Edmund so quiet that no one heard him.

It wouldn't have mattered if they had, anyway. Susan didn't hear anything after Lucy's words. The meaning in her speech was evident.

Caspian still loved her.

How on earth was she supposed to deal with that?


	21. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact this chapter was written before loads of the others
> 
> and I still only published it in august 2012
> 
> ahahaha

It had been a year and a half.

Or at least, that's how long it had been in the conventional sense of time. For Susan, it had been a century and a half. Maybe even millenia.

Maybe it had been for him too. Past tense.

Susan hadn't known how it would be possible for her to live without him. She had thought it would be impossible to go on.

She'd been half right.

Susan hadn't been living for the past eighteen months, the past eighteen, awful, godforsaken months. Her heart might have beat, her lungs might have taken in oxygen and given out carbon dioxide, but she wasn't alive. She wasn't Susan. She wasn't anything.

Susan existed - nothing more.

Of course, she put up a front. She was a better liar than anyone gave her credit for. And she did what women are so good at. She coped.

And occasionally, it worked. She forgot her time in that land of sea and sky and forest and plain. She forgot everything she had done - and lost. She forgot, if only for a short while.

Her family were convinced by now. After Lucy and Edmund had returned, she had made her way back to England. She could face them now, now that they were all in some similar bind.

But the last six months had been ever harder and harder.

She was still thinking of him. It hurt - but she couldn't help it. There was no way to fight it.

She would see a tall, dark man walking through the street, and be reminded of him walking through the Telmarine castle.

She would fall asleep, and dance through palaces in his arms, never able to fall, only fly.

She would hear a Spanish accent on the wireless, and in her mind he would whisper in his native tongue.

And she couldn't go in the woods any more: the smell conjured up memories that were too beautifully painful to bear.

And that was the very worst of it, in a way: he was hers only in sleep and in memory. She wanted to be able to remember: but without the stab in her chest that came whenever she did.

It had been a year and a half.

~#~

And in that land of sea and sky and forest and plain, the King of Susan's heart reigned.

For Caspian, it had been four and a half years. Four and a half years of... nothing. Of fake smiles and forced emotions.

Narnia had been stabilised under his careful watch. His subjects adored him, their faithful Telmarine. And he loved them, as only the greatest of rulers can.

But he was not happy.

No matter what he did, he could not get the image of her out of his mind. It was like she was burned on his eyelids.

Everything reminded him of her. Every single thing.

His people knew nothing of the rift in their young King's heart. They saw the smiling, just, brave man who'd saved them, and who now gave his entire self over to protecting and caring for them.

For Caspian had grown in so many ways to fill his role. He was the King that Narnia had deserved for millenia - the greatest, some were already beginning to say.

But inside, Caspian was less than whole.

He missed Susan like there was a chunk of his very soul missing. Like he had given her himself and it had been taken with her into that world.

That world that he desperately wished he could visit.

Aslan's edict had shaped him, he knew that. He knew that the Pevensies had to return to their land, and that he had to stand alone. And he had. He had become his destiny.

But Susan had shaped him too.

~#~

The others had gone out. Peter was away at university, studying politics. Susan had permitted herself a laugh at that one.

Edmund, now seventeen, had gone down to Kent for a few days to see a friend of his from school. He'd managed to readjust to England, even after returning from his final adventure on the Dawn Treader.

How unlike me.

And Lucy, approaching fifteen, had gone to stay with Eustace for the weekend. Susan smiled, thinking how her previously obnoxious cousin had been so completely altered by Narnia.

Narnia.

She sighed, sinking into a chair by the rain-spotted window. She allowed herself to remember.

And then she did what she had wanted to do for lord knew how many months.

She cried.

~#~

"My King," bowed Lord Rhoop, then exited the room.

Caspian, now alone, allowed himself to sag slightly in his seat. At twenty-one years of age, he was tired.

The pain in his heart had been growing each and every day since he had returned from the border with Aslan's country, where he had said goodbye to the younger Pevensies.

It had been better, for a time, when they had been with him, on board that beautiful boat. He had been able, if not to heal, to forget - for a little while, at least.

But in the year since, it had become worse.

The absence of her was like a weight on his chest. She had changed him in ways that he couldn't even begin to imagine.

He dreamt of her every night. Her likeness was preserved in paint and in marble in both palaces. And her horn was always on his hip.

Caspian made a decision then. The evening's business was done. Nothing was left for him to see to.

King Caspian of Narnia stood up and took off his crown, leaving it on his seat. He was going somewhere he had not been in four years.

Susan's hill.

~#~

Susan curled into herself, shaking with her sobs. She missed him, she missed him so much. It was as if he had her heart, held behind the barrier between their worlds.

"Bring him back. Bring him back. Please. Bring Caspian back."

It was the first time she'd said his name aloud in months. Maybe that was significant.

~#~

Time was supposed to be a healer - but it only made it worse. Time had failed him.

On top of that hill where he had lain beside her in the bright sunshine, he turned his face to the pewter sky and howled. He howled for the loss of the woman who held his heart, his cry wrenching the anguish through his throat and into the night.

Caspian fell to his knees, sobs wracking his form. He just wanted her back. Was that too much to ask?

The leaden sky opened up, pouring rain down on him as he shook, like he had four years earlier. There were no words for this sort of pain. No words at all.

"Susan!" he shouted up at the heavens. Maybe he was mad now, who knew?

And then he slumped, his body giving out. Crumpled in the mud, the King of Narnia lay, desperately trying to find some link to his queen.

"Come back to me, Susan. Come back to me," he whispered in a cracked voice. "Come back to me."

Thunder crashed overhead. He didn't care. All he wanted was Susan.

He staggered to his feet, crying her name to the skies.

"Bring her back to me! Please! If you can hear me, come back. Come back!" he pleaded in the hope that somehow it would help.

But nothing happened.

Caspian howled again, his hands raking through his hair. He could not live like this for another second more. There was no reason for him to keep the rules any longer.

I must do it, he thought in desperation.

He ripped the horn from his belt in a frenzy.

"Hear me, my love. Hear me, Susan," he whispered, before putting it to his lips.

Caspian took a deep breath, praying. He shut his eyes - and blew.

~#~

She felt it. She felt that there was something happening.

She knew something had happened to him. To Caspian. She knew it in her heart. She didn't know how - but she knew it.

And then from outside came the sound of footsteps.

Possessed by some urge, some instinct that she had no understanding of, she got to her feet and ran to the front door.

She wrenched the door open and stepped into the front garden.

"Susan-?" whispered a voice. Susan couldn't breathe.

On that dark, rain-lashed evening, the world stopped.

A tall figure stumbled slightly, but kept its distance, as if afraid to believe.

"Caspian?" she asked, her throat closing.

And then she was running towards him, running through the rain in her Finchley front garden, running towards her Telmarine king in his boots and leather waistcoat.

He closed the distance in a few bounding strides and caught her up in his arms as if he would never let her go.

They held each other's faces, looking deep into one another's eyes as the rain fell all around them.

"You're here," whispered Susan.

"I am here," Caspian replied.

And words ceased to mean a thing as he pressed his lips to hers.


	22. Set the Fire to the Third Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funny thing is I said that this chapter was the beginning of an end to the hiatus
> 
> and that was last august
> 
> oh my oh my
> 
> I promise I can change
> 
> (doesn't mean I will though)

He was here. He'd made it. He didn't know how he'd made it, but he wasn't going to question it, not while he had Susan in his arms.

They finally pulled back. The rain was dripping from both of their faces. It ran into Susan's eyes as she looked up at Caspian.

"You're here," she whispered again.

"I am," he said gently. His voice sounded slightly cracked.

He was dreadfully pale under his tan, Susan suddenly noticed. He didn't look healthy.

Caspian swayed slightly, as if he couldn't get his balance. He attempted to steady himself, taking a step back. But he lurched forward, his knees giving out.

"Caspian!" Susan cried, catching him as he fell.

For Caspian, everything went black.

~#~

"Caspian?"

The voice came from just above his head.

He blinked, trying to open his eyes and look around.

"Caspian?"

He reached his hand up, and held her face as his eye sight gradually cleared.

Her voice was like that of an angel's when she spoke next. "Caspian. You're all right."

He nodded mutely, then gingerly tried to sit up.

"Careful," she cautioned, steadying him.

"Susan," he said hoarsely, still holding her cheek.

"That's me," she said, smiling. "Still me."

"Where - where am I?"

"Finchley," she said. "You're in Finchley, Caspian."

"Finchley," he repeated.

Susan didn't quite know what to say. To be fair, it wasn't every day that you started howling for your lost lover, and then an hour later they appeared on your doorstep, say nothing of the massive gap between your two worlds.

"I'm… I'm so glad to see you." Inwardly she kicked herself – glad? Glad?

His lips quirked up. "As am I. Although, I didn't exactly bargain on this happening when I blew your horn."

Susan stared at him. "You blew the horn?"

He nodded, sitting up slightly higher, rolling his shoulders. Obviously, crossing the boundaries between worlds was a little harder if you were Narnian. "I…" He trailed off, staring at his knees. "I couldn't take it any more." He bit his lip. "I may have done a runner from the castle in the middle of a thunderstorm and had a bit of a hissy fit." He looked up at her like a small child expecting a scolding. "In my defence, four and a half years is a long time." He smiled hopefully at her.

"Four and a half years?" she exclaimed. "Christ. I thought eighteen months was horrific, but you –" Her heart ached for him, and she reached up a hand to hold his face.

A sudden thought gripped her, and she stopped. "You're not…" She broke off, the thought too horrible to bear.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You're not… married, are you?" She looked down. "I mean, not that you had to wait for me, because you knew I wasn't coming back, so it would be unfair to expect that you wouldn't fall in love with someone else –"

Her rambling was cut off by his finger gently tipping her chin up. "I'm not married." A surge of joy rushed through her. He pressed a kiss to her palm. "There is only one person who I've ever loved."

She smiled wider than she had done in months, picking up the hand in his lap and playing with his fingers. "So you blew my horn…"

"And ended up in your front garden, yes. I have to say, I was expecting you to appear in Narnia, if it worked, which I didn't expect it to." He stroked her cheek. "If I'd known it would work, I might have blown it a long time ago."

"It's Aslan's will that's brought you here, not that horn." He looked at her quizzically. "I also had a bit of a moment, earlier."

His face took on an aspect of wonder. "Somehow, at the same time, we must have both called out for the other," he whispered.

"And Aslan heard, and took pity on us."

"I thank him for that forever."

It suddenly hit him that he was with her, with Susan, with his love. He was with her again.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed her and pulled her close.

Susan wrapped her arms tightly about him.

They held each other for a long moment, just appreciating that they had each other again. No heat, no flames, no passion… just the simple knowledge that they were a whole again.

Susan noticed after a second that she was being dripped on. "Hey, you're all wet still!" she exclaimed.

He pulled back, looking down at himself. He was still soaked from his excursion. "Two rainstorms in a row will do that to a person, Susan." He shivered slightly, trying not to show it.

Fat chance of that. "Right, off the sofa." He looked at her funny. "What you're sitting on."

"Oh."

"Get in front of that fire," she said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"What fire?" His expression was so confused that she wanted to kiss the adorableness off his face.

"That black box in the hearth. It's an electric fire." Caspian's mouth made an 'ohhh' shape. "Now get in front of it."

He hid a smile: he'd missed her bossing him around.

"I'll be right back."

He stood awkwardly on the rug in front of the 'fire'. He surveyed the room around him.

It was very different to Narnia. He knew that the lighting was what Ed had called 'elektricitee', and he guessed that the screen in the corner was the magic picture box… teevee? Was that what Lucy had called it? And while he knew that the box in front of him was producing a lot of heat, he wasn't entirely sure why it was called a fire. Surely there wasn't a flame burning inside it?

Susan came back into the room, her arms full of blankets, which she proceeded to dump on the 'sofa'.

"Right. We need to get these wet clothes off you."

Involuntarily, his cheeks turned bright red under their tan.

"Oh come on, Caspian. It's nothing I haven't seen before." She bit her lip.

"Any chance you'll take your clothes off as well?" he asked hopefully, and she poked him in the side, hiding a smile. "Behave, you. I need to focus on preventing you from getting hypothermia."

Slowly, lip still between her teeth, she undid the buttons on his waistcoat. He was chewing his lip as well, because it'd been a long time since anyone had undressed him, and it wasn't even meant to be like that this time, and also he was now three years older than her instead of a few months which he found really quite weird and actually he was really very cold now.

She opened the first few buttons on his shirt, and then he stopped her hands, tugging the wet garment over his head with a wet popping sound. He dropped it on top of his fallen waistcoat.

She turned around, retrieving a towel, which she handed to him. Feeling oddly exposed, he dried off his rain-dampened skin.

Avoiding her gaze, he bent to pull off his boots.

"You still wear those ones?" She asked, an odd tone in her voice. He looked up, one foot still half in its boot.

"Yes…" A question painted itself in his countenance.

"Nothing."

Cheeks now irrationally scarlet, Caspian turned away, unbuttoning his trousers.

Very gently, Susan came up behind him and draped a large blanket around his shoulders. Grateful for the coverage – not to mention the warmth – he struggled out of his wet and clinging leather trousers. He wrapped the blanket around himself, feeling rather stupid with most of his legs on show and a massive pink blanket swaddling his body.

He turned around. "I feel ridiculous," he mumbled.

Susan rolled her eyes. "Sit down on the rug, Caspian."

Awkwardly, he sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. Susan came at him with another blanket, covering every part of him but his head.

Kneeling behind him, she started to towel dry his hair. He jumped, caught by surprise. "What are you doing?"

"I'm drying your hair, you silly man. I don't want you getting hypothermia," she said again.

"What is this 'hypothermia'?" he asked, jerking his chin as she rubbed fiercely at his hair. "Ow!"

She sighed. "Don't be a child. Hypothermia means temperature shock. You were probably starting to go into when you passed out on my doorstep."

"It's a lot colder here than in Narnia!" he exclaimed. "Ow! What are you, my mother?"

"God forbid," she muttered.

He chuckled deep in his chest. Where he couldn't see her, she shook her head, rolling her eyes like she always used to.

He let her dry his hair to her satisfaction, and then she disappeared, returning a few minutes later with two mugs. "Drink it," she stated, shoving it at him.

"You always were bossy," he said, grinning.

"It's you. You bring out the best in me. Now drink it."

"Or the worst," he muttered into his mug, before taking a sip. "Aslan above, what is that?"

"It's got alcohol in it, if that makes you feel better."

"Minx," he muttered, before bringing the foul beverage to his lips again.

Twenty minutes later, he'd finally started to warm up, his face losing its pallor.

"That's better," she said, touching his hot cheek. "Now you look like the Caspian I remember."

"He's still me," the King of Narnia and Telmar mumbled. "I'm still that Caspian."

The room seemed to have changed in temperature, away from the easy humour and warmth, into something wildly different, the heat rising against the pervading chill of lonely years not so easily forgotten.

They looked at each other for a very long time. Then he held out his arms. "Come here." His voice was barely more than a whisper, but she still heard it crack.

Susan let him take her into his arms and lie back, resting her head against his chest. He wound his arms around her waist as she lay against his side, her knee brushing his thigh.

For a moment they lay silent, simply absorbing the other's presence like balm. For a moment it was enough to exist.

Caspian reached up a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind Susan's ear. The expression on his face was identical to the one he'd worn the first time he'd ever done that.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too."

Very gently, she reached up to kiss him, just a soft brush of lips. He held her tightly, then rested his forehead against hers after they parted.

"My Susan."

They were quiet for a while after, until a thunderclap rent the sky. Caspian shuddered at the thought of still being out there.

"Are you cold?"

"Not as much as I was earlier," he smiled. Nevertheless, Susan sat up and snagged a blue tartan blanket off the pile.

"Put it over yourself too," he said, and she smiled, lying back down next to him. His arm instantly went around her, his free hand tucking the blanket up around her. He kissed the top of her head.

"Next time," she said, snuggling into his blanket-covered chest, "don't go out howling at the moon in the middle of a monsoon, eh?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, grinning. "It has its benefits." His hand tightened on her waist under the blankets.

She poked his side. "You never change, Mr Sex-Obsessed."

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed. "I'm surprised they didn't change your name to Queen Susan the Insatiable."

Susan let her mouth hang open, mocking shock. "How very dare you."

"Speaking of changing," he deftly switched topics, "you've somehow ended up even more beautiful than I remember."

She blushed. "You've changed too. Your face looks older. And your hair..." She reached up to touch the strands falling over his face. "You look like a Russian ballet dancer."

"Should I pretend that I know what that means?"

"And your accent!" she exclaimed. "What happened to it?"

He looked down. "Well, being surrounded by Narnians every hour of the day started to change it slowly… And I will admit to trying to get rid of it."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"Two reasons. One, to cement myself better with the people as a peace-bringer – the Telmarine accent is still associated with tyrants." His face twisted slightly. The legacy he had to live with was not just a Narnian one.

"Not since you did your whole 'noble Telmarine' thing," she pointed out. He ignored her. "Two… it reminded me of my time with you." He chewed his lip.

Susan was silent for a long time. Caspian was beginning to get nervous. And then she spoke, slowly, as if contemplating something. "You know, I kept mistaking every tall, dark man on the street for you. I would look up and see someone whose silhouette was the tiniest bit like yours and my heart would leap." Her voice had an odd quality to it. "And then it wouldn't be you, and I'd go back to feeling not much at all."

"I am sorry," he breathed, "that you had to go through that."

"Why are you apologising?" she asked in confusion. "It wasn't your fault."

Caspian froze. He thought it was his fault for not asking her to marry him soon enough. But somehow, he thought it wasn't a good moment to mention that now. Who knows, would she even want to marry him?

"I'm just sorry that you had to live with it."

"That doesn't matter now. You're here."

"For the moment." He didn't realise he'd voiced that thought out loud until he saw Susan's horrified face.

"Oh god – he won't – he won't take you away again so soon, will he?" She sat up, staring at him.

Caspian sat up, the blanket falling off his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. He shook his head determinedly, his arms locking around her. "No. He has reunited us for a reason. I do not think he is cruel."

Susan muffled a sob into his shoulder. "I can't lose you again, not after I just got you back. I can't."

"I will not lose you."

But once again, like that night after she smashed the jug at dinner, desperation started peeking through his resolution. He tangled his fingers into her hair and drew her face to his, kissing her. Susan responded eagerly, her hands going to his dark hair.

He kissed her like this was his last night on earth, without reservation or hesitation or anything but pure, unswerving need. For her. He needed her.

Susan pulled back, gasping for breath. Her Telmarine's eyes were dark, fear just creeping into their depths.

"Is this real? Or is this just a dream?" asked Caspian in a whisper as he held her in his arms.

"It's real," she breathed, touching his face. "It's real, Caspian." She clasped her arms around him. "It's all real."

He, hands shaking slightly, reached up to hold her face. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm really here."

She laughed slightly, but it sounded more like a sob. "You're really here, Caspian."

His face buried itself in her shoulder. "I have missed you so much… So much that I can barely find the words to express it."

"I know," she whispered. "I know." She pressed kisses to his face. "I know." To his shoulders. "I know." She pulled back to look at him. His face wore an aspect of want and hope and fear.

Very gently, he raised his hands to her shoulders, gently pushing aside her unbuttoned cardigan. His eyes asked permission, and she nodded, letting him remove it.

He carefully undid the top two buttons on her blouse, then pulled it up over her head. The garment had barely touched the carpet before he had wrapped her in his arms, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck. She shuddered, fisting her fingers in his hair.

His mouth moved down to the top of the strange garment she wore, trailing softly over her exposed flesh. She bit her lip against the moan threatening to come out.

He moved his hands around to her back, feeling his way to the clasp. He tried to undo it by touch, but to no avail. Susan smiled, then reached around, undoing it for him.

"I thought you said they were easy to undo," he mumbled as he pulled it fully off her.

"Practice, Caspian, practice," she laughed softly, before he moved his mouth lower and her voice was swallowed up in a sigh.

He struggled a bit with her skirt and tights, but soon they were both naked, sitting up with their legs all tangled together.

"I love you," he whispered, holding her face in his hand.

"I love you too," she replied, leaning forward to kiss him. His arms pulled her close, and she shivered from his still chilly skin.

Susan leant over to the electric fire, and twisted the control, setting it to the third bar, before turning back to him, to Caspian, to the fairy tale king with the shy smile on his face.

She let him pull her down on top of him, let him kiss her and run his hands all over her, let him lay her down on the floor and press his body into hers, absorbing the sensation of one another, hardly able to believe it was real.

They trailed hands over each other as they each lay with their backs on the rug, relearning each other like a map of a half-forgotten but always fondly remembered country. They'd each changed, Susan having thinned in some places and filled out in others, Caspian having grown an inch or two and packed on more muscle than the skinny teenage boy she remembered.

She found several scars that hadn't been there the last time. She stopped kissing his stomach, locking eyes with him.

"Slavers," he said quietly.

She hated the idea of anyone hurting him. She pressed her lips gently to the long scratch.

His hands planed up her back, sweeping her hair away from his neck, kissing it softly, worlds away from the eager teenager who'd given her lovebite after lovebite, desperate to mark her as his own. Now, he knew more that ever that she was his and he was hers, he belonged to this English girl and queen of Narnia who'd wrapped him in blankets and was now kissing him in front of an electric fire.

He touched her side, and she squirmed, still ticklish after all this time. She smiled up at him, stroking the line of his jaw.

And then he gently moved on top of her, holding her eyes with his own the whole time. She laid her arms across his back, softly urging him on and then they met in a pair of gasps, soughing across the silent room.

That strange union, that entity, that SusanandCaspian was finally whole.

It hurt. It had been a long time. He bent his head to kiss her face, mumbling apologies as he slowly moved and the pain began to shift into that addictive otherness that had her arching up to meet him, his arm under her back to bring her close.

Breaths began to come faster, cut off inhalations and almost pained sighs tangling in the room above that tangible bond that once again sang in the imterrupted air.

The room was getting very warm, a bead of sweat trailing down her throat, their bodies sliding over one another in the heap of blankets. He licked at her collarbone, feeling her arch against him.

"Aslan," he breathed, "I missed you." His breath warmed her shoulder.

She'd missed this. She'd missed feeling his body covering hers. She'd missed owning and being owned in the most basic way imaginable.

"Stay with me," he whispered, voice broken, looking down at her, his hair hanging down either side of his face.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere."

Breathing became ragged, exhalations half invocation, half exultation because they had each other back and please let this last, please let this go on forever. Fingers gripped sweat-slicked flesh, she now on top of him, hands desperately grasping at his back and shoulders, him sat up to hold her as if he wouldn't ever let go.

"Oh god-"

"Susan," he mumbled, holding her tight with an arm around her back, and one cradling her shoulder. He had her back. He had her back and he never wanted to lose her ever again but he might so he had to make this last, whispering his love into her neck.

Backs exposed to the lamplight, they moved in the warm air, faces inches apart. With one gasp, she tipped her head back, eyes screwed shut, and he held her until he too arched under the weight offeeling and bliss and emotion, and groaned her name over and over in a long spiralling string.

For a long time they held each other, still shaking, skin damp with sweat that began to chill in the air. It was enough to feel the presence of the other, to live it, to be utterly overwhelmed by it. To be with the other.

After, they lay side by side in front of the fire, the blanket draped lightly over them. Susan's fingers tapped and stroked his chin.

"Ed said you had a beard."

He smiled, leaning into her touch. "I grew it while we were on the Dawn Treader – I cut myself one too many times trying to shave properly, so I just gave up on it at sea."

She laughed. "You're just a teenage boy at heart, you are."

"I am only twenty one. Well, twenty two next week."

"I'm not nineteen for a few months yet. " She pushed his hair back off his face. "Once was the time that you were only a few months older than me. Brings a whole new meaning to 'time differences'."

"Something tells me that I should have laughed at that, but I do not understand the joke, so I'm not laughing."

She smiled. "I'll explain another time."

"All right." He laughs. "Besides, I thought you were thirteen hundred years older than me anyway?"

She shoved at his chest. "Oh, shut up."

He grinned, and it was as if he'd never been parted from her.

"Shall we just accept that you're older than me in one way, and I'm older than you in another?"

"Whatever makes you happy, my Queen." He smiled angelically. "Three years really isn't anything in comparison to thirteen centuries, but if it makes you feel better..." He trailed off, his grin taking a turn for the shit-eating.

She smacked him lightly. "God, you still are infuriating."

"I try, Susan, I try." He lay back properly, yawning. "Come here," he said proprietorially, pulling her close.

"You know what you were saying, about using the horn earlier?" she asked a while later, watching her hand rise and fall with the motion of his breathing.

"Yes?" he mumbled, already drifting into sleep.

"I think the reason it worked now is because you'd proved something to Aslan. You'd proved that you're a good king, without the influence of us Pevensies."

Caspian was silent for a long time. Susan thought he might have fallen asleep.

Then he tightened his arms around her.

"I shall be an even better one with you by my side."


End file.
